Guardian
by Logicalmagic
Summary: After the Triwizard Tournament debacle, Sirius decides it's high time he started playing a more active role in his godson's life. A Sirius-takes-charge fic. AU Fifth book onwards.
1. Introspection

_Disclaimer: The Harry Potter series belong to J.K Rowling. You know what they say though – Imitation is the best form of flattery._

** Chapter 1 – Introspection**

Sirius looked around the dreary kitchen of Number 12 Grimmauld Place where most of the Order was gathered. Dumbledore sat at the head of the table sprouting some or the other nonsense about Order matters, while Molly sat on his left hanging on to every word. Arthur and Minerva sat next to her paying close attention and asking a few questions now and then. Alastor sat on Dumbledore's right, one eye fixed on him, while the other swiveled around the room looking for signs of suspicious behavior. Snivellus was standing behind Dumbledore, in front of the fireplace, a permanent scowl etched on his face.

Sirius casually turned his head to the back of the room to observe what the rest of the group doing. Remus sat quietly in a corner, concentrating on taking in everything that was happening. A few seats away, Nymphadora Tonks appeared to be sneaking glances his way every few minutes. These were the only people in the room that Sirius actually knew. The rest of the room was filled with people like Dedalus Diggle, Emmeline Vance, Francesca Darling, Mungdus Fletcher, and other members who looked like they didn't have an iota of common sense among them. The only two people that Sirius felt had some potential were Kingsley Shacklebolt and Hestia Jones. They both looked like they were capable of handling whatever this war threw their way, in a calm and sensible manner.

Not for the first time Sirius wondered how this group claimed to be the core of Voldemort's opposition, when most of them could not hear the word "Voldemort" without shrieking or fainting. "Blind fools", he thought bitterly, as he attempted not to let the irritation show on his face. Was he the only one who saw the great Albus Dumbledore for what he truly was? A simple human with illusions of grandeur. One who thought he had the right to lord over people's life. A man who thought his way was the only right way.

Unfortunately, Sirius observed, as he looked around the room, he _was_ the only one who could see this. Everyone in the room believed, in one way or the other, that Dumbledore and his methods were unquestionable. That he was the only one capable of leading the British Wizarding World to victory.

Sirius knew, that at one time, he too was guilty of the same belief. When he had freshly graduated from Hogwarts and was ready to take on the world. James, Remus, and Peter had readily joined the Order along with him, eager to please the Supreme Mugwump and prove their worth. That was the beginning of their downfall.

True, it was Peter who had betrayed them to Voldemort, but, in Sirius' eyes, Dumbledore was responsible for what followed. How had the same man, who was usually so eager to look for redeemable qualities in even the vilest of Death Eaters, believed him to be guilty so easily? As Head of the Wizengamot he could have easily arranged for a trial for Sirius, if not for anything else, then at least to make sure that he was guilty. It was Dumbledore who had suggested the use of the Fidelus Charm to James and Lily, and had then proceeded to convince Lily, a prodigee in Charms, that using either of them as the Keeper would render it ineffective. Since James and Lily had never revealed who their Secret Keeper was to anyone else in the Order, Dumbledore should have known that there was a possibility that someone other than Sirius had been chosen for the task.

But Sirius was willing to give Dumbledore the benefit of the doubt for all these mistakes. The ones that he didn't think he'd ever be able to forgive, were the deliberate actions on his part. Sending a friendly but dim-witted half giant to pick up Harry from the ruins of Godric's Hollow instead of personally checking the former house of two of his "prized" Order members. Failing to give Harry a thorough medical check-up by a professional Medi-wizard right after the attack. Dumping Harry on Petunia's doorstep without so much so as a by-your-leave. Not bothering to check up on the savior of the wizarding world even once. Leaving Harry in the dark about his heritage for ten years.

When it was time for Harry to once again enter his world, Dumbledore had once again sent Hagrid to do the needful. Sirius knew that for any other Muggle-born or –raised student, one of the House Heads would arrive to properly explain the situation and clarify any questions the student or his family might have. Then after a guided tour of Diagon Alley, the family would receive a bunch of pamphlets and a list of reference books about the basics of the wizarding world. Students were then informed that any queries mailed via Muggle post to a particular address, would be promptly answered through Owl post. Finally, a Hogwarts Express ticket would be handed over along with clear instructions on how to get to Platform Nine and Three-quarters.

Harry had mentioned in one of his letters, the story behind his friendship with the Weasleys and Hermione. From it, Sirius had gathered, that Ron Weasley, having heard his twin brothers mention that the boy asking for directions to the platform was "Harry Potter", had got on the train to look for him. Having found him, the first thing he did was gawk at his scar. The second thing he did was befriend the Boy-who-lived. Ever since then he had blocked anyone else from getting close to Harry. This plan had backfired a bit when he had badmouthed the Muggle-born witch, and after the subsequent rescue, she and Harry had become friends. But Ron had probably not seen her as a threat to his status as the Boy-who-lived's best friend and must have been more than happy to have someone to copy his assignments from.

Hermione Granger was another piece of work, thought Sirius. She had made a name for herself as one of the smartest witches attending Hogwarts, but most of her intelligence came from books. Sirius would always be grateful for to her for her role in his rescue from the Dementor's kiss, but that didn't stop him from wondering if her friendship with Harry caused him more harm than good. She had a _very_ dominating personality that had put off many of the students, and had, without realizing it, isolated Harry just as Ron had. Hermione was also very much like the blind sheep that filled the Order – secure in her belief that the ones with authority were always right. While this belief had most probably been tempered down since her friendship with Ron and Harry (smuggling dragons, making polyjuice, helping an innocent convict escape,….), Sirius was sure she would still choose to follow Dumbledore over Harry.

Minerva went on and on about what a genius the girl was, but how much of her smarts came through rote and how much of it was original? When Sirius had been in school, he and his fellow Marauders had spent hours everyday poring over non-standard textbooks, modifying or outright inventing tricky little spells and potions that would pull off the outrageous pranks they had planned. Hermione's method of studying – inhaling entire textbooks and sprouting them out when asked, word-for-word – combined with her nagging ways, probably discouraged Harry from studying to his true potential more than Ron's lazy attitude did.

James and Lily had been among the top students when they had attended Hogwarts. James had inherited his mother's formidable Transfiguration talent to such an extent, that Minerva would consider him one of her favourite students in spite of all the pranks and shameless flirting he inflicted on her. Lily, while no slouch at Transfiguration, was better known for her Charms skills. Flitwick had actually asked her to consider becoming his Apprentice in their sixth year, but Lily had decided to wait until she completed her NEWTS. In Sirius' mind, there was no doubt that Harry had inherited his parents' talent, if his magnificent Patronus was any indication. But so far everything he had heard indicated that Harry was an average student, with slightly above average DADA skills.

With Voldemort back, it was more important now than ever before, that Harry work hard at improving his magical potential. He could no longer afford to do the bare minimum required. Sirius would have to talk to Harry about the situation. Speaking of whom….

"Alastor, kindly read out the new schedule of guard duty" Dumbledore's voice cut through his thoughts.

Now that the discussion concerned Harry, Sirius subtly began to pay attention.

"Right. Arthur – for Monday and Wednesday evenings. Hestia, you're taking over the morning slot on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Rupert, we need you there on Wednesday mornings and Saturday evenings, ..."

While Sirius understood the need to protect the Boy-who-lived, he hated the fact that all these people would essentially be spying on Harry while he was unaware of their presence. Moreover, hadn't Dumbledore claimed that Harry was safest at the Dursley's due to the blood wards? What was the need for all this guard duty then? When Sirius had questioned him on Harry's safety there, considering that Voldemort now had Harry's blood, Dumbledore had brushed aside his worries.

Dumbledore was keeping Harry in the dark for a reason, but what that reason was, he was not sure. The old man had told Ron and Hermione when they arrived at Grimmauld Place, in no uncertain terms, that they were not to inform Harry of anything happening in the Order Headquarters or in the newspapers. He claimed that the letters could be intercepted and sensitive information leaked out. Then, while the two of them were rapidly nodding there heads in understanding, he had gone on to say that Harry needed time alone, before he was forced to confront all his problems again. Hermione's eyes had lit up with understanding and she had immediately begun to babble some psychiatric nonsense, to which Dumbledore had responded "Exactly, Miss Granger. I can see that the two of you are quite ready for some serious responsibility". Hermione immediately got the hint, and for the rest of the day she tried to hide her smug grin. Ron, although clueless about the hint, seemed quite happy having an upper hand over Harry - which lasted until his mother put him on "cleaning duty".

"… and finally Snape for Thursday afternoon and Sunday mornings.", finished Alastor. Snape scowled momentarily, but on spotting a similar look on Sirius' face, his expression changed into a smirk.

"_Glad _to be of use to the Order, Albus, unlike some here." he said, with a pointed look in his direction. Sirius had to grit his teeth from making a biting remark back. Dumbledore gave a mildly disappointed look towards Snape, and then moved on to the next point on his agenda. This one was trying to convince a few concerned members, that in spite of all the slandering Fudge and his Daily Prophet were doing, Dumbledore was still very much in control of the situation.

"Voldemort won't be keeping quiet for long. It's only a matter of time before Fudge is forced to realize that he's well and truly back." Dumbledore said, attempting to pacify everyone. There were a few choice comments against Fudge, and Sirius could have sworn he heard Minerva mutter "moron" under her breath.

"In the mean time, it is our duty to soldier on. Sometimes it seems like a thankless job, but in the end society will see and recognize our efforts."

A clever little speech, thought Sirius. Dumbledore was making himself out to be a selfless martyr – one who was willing to take on the slander and disrespect of the general populace, for the _greater good. _Once it became clear to everyone that Voldemort was really back, they would once again flock to Dumbledore for guidance. In a bid to lessen their guilt over all the nasty things they had believed about him in the past, they would praise him even more than they had before. If anyone tried to malign his name again, they would rather strike at the offender than pause to consider the truth of his words. In other words, Dumbledore's position would be stronger than ever before.

After answering a few more questions, Dumbledore declared the meeting closed, and headed out of the house. The rest of the crowd started to shuffle towards the exit as well and soon the kitchen was empty, save for Sirius, Remus, Tonks and Molly. As Molly bustled about the kitchen preparing dinner, Sirius stood up to get himself a glass of Firewhiskey. Molly shot him an irritated look, as he reached over her to get the glass, but he ignored it and sat down again. He noticed Remus watching him carefully as he poured his drink in, and he ignored him too.

"So Nymphadora, how's work?" he asked.

She glared at him. "It's Tonks!" she all but shrieked.

Sirius chuckled a bit at that. "My dear baby cousin. You'll always be Nymphie to me."

Even Remus joined in the laughter as Tonks' face and hair changed colors in rapid succession.

"Shaddup!" she said and stormed out of the kitchen.

"Really, Sirius, Why can't you act your age for once?" Molly immediately began berating him for his moment of fun.

"And be old like you?" Sirius replied snidely. Molly gasped.

"Sirius!", Remus finally spoke up, in a warning tone. Sirius gave him a cold look and walked out of the kitchen. Unfortunately, Remus followed him.

"Sirius, I know you don't get along with her but why do you go out of your way to antagonize her?" Remus questioned, as he grabbed his elbow. "Moony, that woman is insufferable. She's always interfering in my business, so don't tell me she didn't deserve it.", snapped Sirius.

"Come on, Padfoot! Who's the one who is organizing the cleaning of your whole house? And who cooks breakfast, lunch and dinner? She's doing a lot for you, and you have a fine way of showing your thanks", said Remus, as they began walking up the stairs.

"Remus", Sirius practically growled, "In case you didn't notice, I didn't ask her to do _any_ of those things. She was the one who suddenly decided that it was her responsibility to clean this whole damn house. Next thing I know, she's moved in lock, stock and barrel with her family, acting as if this house belongs to her!"

"It is your house Sirius, everyone knows that" Remus attempted to calm him down. "But it was you who agreed to offer this house as Order Headquarters."

"Which means that I allow the Order to use this place for meetings. That does not indicate that I offer free lodging for every Order member!" Sirius ranted.

Remus kept quiet at that, and soon they had reached Sirius' room. Sirius made to open the door, then paused and turned around to face Remus.

"Look, Moony. I don't want to seem petty. I hate this stupid house, and truth be told, I'm actually glad to have the company. Molly and her family are welcome to stay here, and so are you. But I will not have her behaving as though she owns the place. So please, just drop it, okay?" said Sirius, firmly. Remus sighed and nodded reluctantly. Sirius entered his room and shut the door behind him.

At one time, Remus had been one of his best friends. But now, after all that had happened, he wasn't so sure. He didn't blame Remus for believing him guilty. His behavior had been pretty suspicious back then. Believing Remus to be the spy, he had tried his best to avoid him during Order meetings, and, whenever they spoke, he had been very careful about anything he said to him. Looking back, it was easy to understand how such behavior made him appear all the more guilty in Moony's eyes.

But now, even though he was had proved his innocence, things would never be the same. There was too much hurt and bitterness there. Besides, Sirius knew that Remus would never see his point of view on many of his newly held beliefs. He was too much of a Dumbledore's man. Ever since Dumbledore had agreed to let him attend Hogwarts, the old man had gained Remus' unwavering loyalty. Remus would never question the man who had given him a chance to be a normal kid.

Sirius had asked him late one night, as they sat drinking Firewhiskey in front of the fireplace, why he had never bothered checking up on Harry since James' and Lily's death. Remus had stared at his drink mournfully, and replied that he had asked Dumbledore, but the man had told him that the bloodwards around the Dursley's house prevented anyone with "Dark magic" from entering the place. As a werewolf he would be unable to come within 50 feet of the house.

While this was true, Sirius knew that Dumbledore could choose to key certain people tainted with Dark Magic (cough! "Snape!" cough!) into the wards. But instead of voicing this, he asked, "What stopped you from meeting him somewhere else then?" Remus had stammered a bit at that, and hemmed and hawed until Sirius finally got the gist of it. Dumbledore had basically implied that the Dursley's _were_ initially unhappy but had come to barely tolerate magic, due to their "love" for Harry. If Remus were to show up, their old insecurities and fears would once again spring up, and that would be "detrimental" to Harry's well-being.

What Remus had _not_ said, but Sirius had understood, was that Remus had once again let _his _old insecurities take root. The Marauders had noticed, and had tried for years to correct his poor sense of self-worth. By the time they had graduated, they had succeeded to some extent. But once they were out in the real world, Remus couldn't get a job, and slowly, all the prejudice and ridicule began to affect him again. Instead of sharing his problems with his friends, he began to withdraw into his shell, and it was this behavior that made Sirius suspect him in the first place.

After that horrible Halloween, in one blow, Remus had lost all his friends. He was so lost in his misery, that it took him a whole year before he finally asked to see Harry. When his mentor had "gently" refused, he began to believe that the savior of the Wizarding World wouldn't want to interact with a werewolf anyway, never mind the fact that he was a close friend of his parents. Not for a moment would it have crossed his mind that Harry was unhappy with the Dursleys. That he would have given anything to hear some stories about his parents.

However, Sirius didn't share any of these thoughts with Remus, and listened quietly as the man told him how he jumped at the chance to teach DADA, as it gave him the opportunity to finally meet Harry. Remus described his impression of Harry – "Very quiet and one could almost call him shy. Not much of a bookworm but he was quite good with the practicals. He was _very _determined to learn the Patronus Charm. Not once did he want to give up, even after he heard James' voice right before…" here he faltered a bit, "…before he was killed." They had both sat in silence for sometime after that, and then Remus had bid Sirius a goodnight and left him to his thoughts.

It was clear to Sirius that Remus didn't (or didn't want to) see the fact that Harry was being abused at home, in some form or the other. It had been obvious to Sirius, the first time he had spotted him near Privet Drive, that the boy was neglected (his clothes were old and two sizes too large _and_ he was clearly running away.) As Sirius had continued to silently observe him at Hogwarts that year, he became surer of his suspicions. If that wasn't enough, then the fact that he had been ready to move in immediately with a man who had spent 13 years in Azkaban was definitely a clue.

Sirius had straight away started making plans, trying to figure out where they would live, how soon he would be able to get Harry away from the Dursleys, getting Harry some new clothes, telling him wonderful stories about his parents…, but in just a few moments everything went downhill. Wormtail escaped, and Sirius was nearly kissed by the Dementors. Suddenly the only option left for Sirius was to leave Britain for a while, once again leaving his godson behind.

He had briefly toyed with the idea of taking Harry with him, but quickly realized that "kidnapping" the Boy-who-lived would practically guarantee that the Ministry would press all of its resources into finding him. He traveled for a while, working on getting his mind and body to recover, and getting in touch with old contacts to let them know of his innocence. Then it became clear from various reports, that something big was brewing in the horizon and Harry would need him sooner or later, so he returned back to England.

His premonition turned out to be right, as Harry soon found himself fighting to survive the Triwizard Tournament. But Sirius had been wrong in assuming that the people behind Harry's predicament had wanted Harry to die during the tasks. The plan was a masterstroke on Voldemort's part, portkeying Harry out from the middle of the maze where no one could see it happen. Even though Harry had managed to escape _and_ bring back the Diggory boy's body, few had believed his version of the events. Most people still believed that Harry had put his name in the Goblet, and though no one was saying anything out loud, Sirius knew that some suspected that Harry himself had killed Cedric in a bid to be the sole winner of the Tournament.

Sirius had had enough. He had made a huge mistake twice – once, when he convinced James and Lily to use Pettigrew as the secret keeper, and the second time - when he left Harry with Hagrid, choosing to extract revenge from the rat instead. Both those plans had backfired spectacularly, and Harry had suffered because of it. But not anymore. It was time to stop dwelling in the past, time to stop all the brooding and self-loathing. Harry needed him now. Voldemort, Dumbledore, the Order be damned – from now onwards he _would_ make sure that Harry came first.


	2. Scheming

_Disclaimer: The Harry Potter series belong to J.K Rowling. _

** Chapter 2 – Scheming**

Sirius had spent days perfecting his plans. He was usually known to be rather impulsive, and reactive rather than proactive. But seeing how well that had served him in the past, he knew that he had to be more careful this time. After all, Harry's well-being depended on the success of his plans. Therefore, he had thought long and hard, made and scratched out new ideas of ensuring his and Harry's safety in the coming war.

Unlike his Marauder days, where the main goal was to prank the Slytherins and not get caught, this time his opposition involved anyone who was out to harm Harry. The consequences of getting caught were far worse than simply losing House points or getting detention. He risked life imprisonment or worse – the possibility of losing his soul. His task seemed practically impossible at the moment. What could an escaped convict (even though he was an innocent one) do to help his godson (who happened to be the Boy-who-lived) escape the clutches of the Ministry, Voldemort, Dumbledore _and_ their minions? Alone, they were formidable opponents, but together? Sirius knew his task was not an easy one. But he could make it easier by equipping Harry with all the resources he needed. If Harry was aware of what was going on, and knew who to watch out for, then that would be one less thing to worry about.

Giving Harry all the information and training he would need was impossible when he was stuck at Privet Drive. But Dumbledore would bring him to the Order Headquarters sooner rather than later. Most of the new recruits had joined expecting to interact with both, the famed defeater of Grindlewald, and the Boy-who-lived, and some of them were getting rather restless at the distinct lack of "Harry Potter" in the house.

So it was highly likely that Harry would be spending the rest of his vacation at Grimmauld Place. Sirius had a _lot _of things to teach and explain to Harry, so the two of them were going to be very busy. But he was also going to make sure that Harry had his fun, and that the two of them could make up a bit for thirteen years of lost time together.

With all this in mind, Sirius had drawn up a list of things to be accomplished before his godson's arrival. The first thing that he'd taken care of was setting up Harry's room. He'd enjoyed that immensely. While he couldn't _officially_ let Harry live with him, he was certainly going to try to do everything he could for his godson under the circumstances. That didn't mean that he had told anyone of his plans. If he gave them time to think about it, they would surely come up with ways to try and thwart him.

Even though Sirius' family had hated him, they had never truly disowned him. In fact, Kreacher had told him that his father had been so proud of his "betraying" the Potters, that he had actually thrown a party to celebrate. Believing that his son had finally seen the "error" of his Gryffindor ways, he had decided to let Sirius remain Heir to the House of Black.

So Sirius had been able to promptly claim the title of Lord Black right before opening up Grimmauld Place. All that it required was a visit to a Gringotts branch in France, signing a few parchments here and there with a blood quill, putting on the House of Black ring – and violà! Instant Lord Black! He had then immediately declared Harry as the Heir to the House of Black (which resulted in another round of parchment signing), and asked for the heir ring to be retrieved from the London Branch. Deciding that half an hour of waiting, twiddling his thumbs would be too boring, he decided on the spur of the moment, that now would be a good time as any to disown Bellatrix and Narcissa.

The Ministry would be receiving notification of all the changes he had made except for appointing Harry his Heir. Many pureblood families wished to keep the identity of their Heir a secret, to prevent any _untoward incidents _from killing off both the current Lord and the Heir. In the aftermath of the Tournament, Sirius doubted if the Ministry would even notice that he had claimed Lordship, but even if they did there was nothing they could do about it. There were several laws that prevented the Ministry from interfering in "family" business. It was the one of the reasons he had been able to access his money even while on the run. He was also quite sure that the Ministry would not want to make it known that they had not only failed to catch Sirius Black, but that this dangerous criminal had also managed to claim Lordship from right under their noses.

His work in France done, he had headed back to Grimmauld place and proceeded to renovate certain parts. All magical buildings could be modified by the owner to some extent. There was, however, a limit to this capability. A small cottage with two floors could be adjusted so that certain rooms doubled in size. The owner could also add balconies on the first floor. But he could not convert the cottage to a mansion, or add too many extra rooms. Trying to surpass these limitations would result in a weak, unstable home. The Weasley's home was known to be a prime example of this. The house had so many unstable modifications done to it that many were surprised it hadn't collapsed by now.

The new Lord Black, was easily able to bring about the changes he wanted to his six-storey ancestral home. He cordoned off the top three floors of the house from the rest of the Order, for his and Harry's use. To everyone else, the house appeared to have only four floors. The top floor had been converted into a terrace garden with a small shed for his beloved motorcycle. The famed Black family library was moved to the fifth floor next to the training and study rooms. The fourth floor had his and Harry's rooms, and a small pantry. Finally he had cast a little known spell to prevent magical eyes like Moodys' from seeing what was happening in any of the rooms in the house. He liked his privacy, thank you very much.

As he waited for the shipment of goods he had bought in France to arrive, Sirius made sure to read all the notes left behind by his ancestors, on the more _creative_ aspects of the wards surrounding the house. Some were pure brilliance, but most of them made him lose his lunch. The shipments started to arrive by evening. It took him the rest of the evening and the whole of the next day setting everything up.

Then he sat back and wondered how he was going to get Dumbledore to ask if he could use his home as Order headquarters. Sirius could directly offer, but he wanted it to look like it was Dumbledore's idea. He would have to do this subtly.

The next Order meeting was held in Dedalus Diggle's little cottage. Sirius made sure to mention that he was staying at his old house. "It's a crazy old place. My mother's screaming portrait is stuck in the front hall, and I've got a half-mad house-elf that worships it. The house is as big and gloomy as I remember it." At the end of the meeting when they were debating on where to hold the next one, Sirius kept quiet.

The following meeting was held at Emmeline Vance's small apartment. It was quite a task fitting everyone in. Sirius made sure to appear half-asleep throughout the meeting. Predictably Molly had started in on him. "Sirius!" she shrieked. "We're discussing important matters here and you have the audacity to fall asleep!"

"If you were up half the night, trying to clean such a huge house, you'd be dead tired too!" he countered. This time Dumbledore took the bait. "Sirius, why don't we hold the next meeting at your home?" he suggested. He was trying to appear comfortable in his cramped position between Arabella and Hagrid.

"I don't know…" started Sirius.

"Pathetic as ever Black! The least you can do is offer your house. You're of no use to the Order for anything else anyway", sneered Snape.

"Severus, please" scolded Dumbledore before Sirius could retort. Turning back to Sirius, he pleaded, "Sirius please consider this. Until we find a permanent location for our headquarters, we need everyone to cooperate."

"Fine. We'll use my house next time" Sirius replied sulkily, while mentally congratulating himself on his acting skills.

The next meeting had been a resounding success. Everyone was seated comfortably in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Of course, the décor left a lot to be desired, but Sirius didn't want them to get _too_ comfortable. At the end of the meeting, Dumbledore asked Sirius in his round about way, if they could use this place as headquarters from now onwards.

"The Ministry has been on high alert ever since the tournament. Sirius, it is no longer safe for you to roam around London. We could hold all future meetings here so that there is no need for you to endanger yourself needlessly."

Sirius made a great show of nodding his head his head reluctantly.

"Excellent! I shall cast the Fidelus myself. Everyone, please arrive ten minutes early for the next meeting so that I can share the secret with all of you. "

With that, the meeting was wrapped up. Later, Sirius cracked open a bottle of champagne and laughed long and hard into the night.

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**Author's notes: **(1) Sirius' trip to France is explained in a later chapter.

(2) Sirius can't reinstate Andromeda and Nymphadora back into the family because the Ministry will be notified if he does so. Since Tonks is an Auror, she could get into trouble if they believe she is in contact with Sirius.

(3) Thank you all for your wonderful reviews! This is my first attempt at fanfiction. Last checked this story had 360+ hits.


	3. Letters

**Chapter 3 – Letters**

Sirius sighed as he looked at all the letters from Harry, begging for information. He knew that Harry was getting frustrated, cooped up with those horrible relatives of his, with no news of the Wizarding World. But there was nothing he could do about it. Dumbledore had warned him against writing anything Order-related in his letters. He wouldn't put it past the old coot to actually screen his letters. Besides, the things he needed to tell Harry were too important to write about in a letter.

Instead, Sirius did the next best thing. He wrote to Harry about his parents. After all, that was what everybody expected him to do wasn't it? If anyone _was_ screening the letters they wouldn't find anything suspicious about the nostalgic ramblings of a half-mad (or so they thought) godfather.

But Sirius had an ulterior motive behind those stories - getting Harry to see that his parents' brilliance was actually the result of a lot of hard work.

So Sirius described the amount of research the Marauders spent on every prank. He talked about how James had tried to gate-crash Lily's study group but had gotten hexed instead. He wrote about the long nights spent researching the Animagus transformation. Sirius didn't want Harry to feel weighed down by his parents' legacy. Harry had complained to him once, that he had grown tired of everyone comparing him to his parents. Sirius wanted his godson to see that James and Lily were very much human, and had worked hard to achieve their success.

Sirius had also written about his own less-than-happy childhood, so that Harry knew that Sirius understood. Harry's friends, who had grown up protected and well-loved, would never be able to identify with his struggles. But Sirius made sure that he wrote, in great detail, about how much he had enjoyed life, once he had cut himself off from his family. He wanted Harry to know that there was more to life than abuse and neglect.

Accordingly, Sirius talked about guitar classes, and Auror training; the places he had visited; the story behind his flying bike; the day Harry was born,…

At first, Hedwig would bring letters from Harry, addressed to Ron, Hermione and Sirius. Then gradually, letters to Ron and Hermione grew progressively shorter until they stopped coming, while Harry's letters to Sirius grew longer and longer. Every letter began with the customary pleading for more information, then went on to comment on some of the stories Sirius had shared in his last letter, and finally ended with questions about his parents and Sirius that Harry wanted answered.

But it was his last letter that had nearly moved Sirius to tears.

"Sirius," (_it read)_

"I wanted to thank you for everything you've done for me. I love reading all those stories about Mum and Dad. Everyone always talked about them in abstract terms but never really got around to telling me _anything _about them. I didn't even know what they did for a living until you told me.

I've spent a lot of time just thinking about my life, and realized that I never did thank you for how you risked your life to help me during the Tournament. So thank you, Sirius. Dementors aside, you were living on rats just to be by my side!

If feels nice to know, that for once, I have someone who truly cares for me.

I miss you.

Love,

Harry"

Sirius swallowed the lump in his throat as he carefully put aside the letter. He was now more determined than ever before to help Harry get through the war. Not for the first time, he prayed for everything to go according to his plans.

He stared miserably at the huge pile of documents he still had to go through, before his stomach's grumbling informed him that it was time for a break. Trudging down the stairs, he heard Molly bustling around the kitchen shooting orders to her kids and Hermione. She shot him a dark scowl as he entered the kitchen. She seemed to have decided that not speaking to him would make him feel guilty enough to apologise, but when that didn't seem to be having the required effect, she had started passing snide remarks whenever he was within hearing. Really, if that woman kept it up, she would soon be competing with Snivellus for the snarkiest human alive.

Sirius started to prepare himself a sandwich while mentally counting "3…2…1". Sure enough, -

"Ron, set the table! I don't want you lying around like a useless lump when everyone else is working."

Ron, who until then had been peeling potatoes at the kitchen table with a grumpy look on his face, looked up startled.

"I **am **working!"

"As you should be! I don't want you growing up into a lazy good-for-nothing like some people." Molly snapped back.

Oh, real subtle, thought Sirius, the corners of his mouth twitching. It was in times like this that Sirius thought that his mother and Molly would have gotten along fabulously. Except for the whole blood-traitor thing.

Poor Ron still didn't seem to realize who his mother's remarks were directed at. The twins, however, winked at Sirius and went back to their work.

Sirius spotted Molly glancing at him from the corner of her eye, looking to see if her words had hit home yet. He made a great show of stretching his hands over his head and yawning loudly, before leaning forward to polish off the rest of his sandwich. Hermione frowned at him but said nothing. It looked like she agreed with her future mother-in-law.

Just as Sirius was preparing to head back to his work, the Floo chimed and Minerva almost stumbled out, looking completely agitated.

"Sirius! Harry's in trouble!" she cried.

Sirius felt his heart sink. All sorts of horrible scenarios flashed in his mind.

In two strides he had reached in front of the woman, who was trying to catch her breath.

"What happened Minerva?" He nearly growled.

"Harry was attacked by Dementors. He and his cousin were nearly kissed, but he managed to drive them away with his Patronus."

Sirius felt a feeling of absolute relief warring with a sense of disbelief. Dementors were hunting in a Muggle neigbourhood? The very place that was supposed to keep Harry safe!

Snapping out of his thoughts he focused on Minerva who was still talking.

"The Ministry has decided to expel him. The letter must have reached him by now. If he thinks that they're going to snap his wand he might do something foolish like running away or fighting his way out."

Sirius froze. To Harry, magic had been a means of escape. If he thought it was going to be taken away from him…

"Albus has already sent him a letter telling him to stay put while he works it out at the Ministry. He wants you to do the same."

Sirius didn't need to be told twice. Running up the stairs, two at a time, he burst into his room and grabbed a piece of parchment. He hastily scribbled a note and raced down to the first floor balcony where the Order had created a small owelry for the many owls the members had between them. He was about to attach the letter to one of the owls, when he decided that he needed to add one more line before sending it.

"_Please trust me."_


	4. Homecoming

**Chapter 4 – Homecoming**

Sirius had been on pins and needles the whole afternoon. Harry was finally coming home! Despite all the planning and plotting he had done, he was still nervous. He was finally getting a chance to explain everything to Harry, but what if his godson refused to believe him?

"Don't be stupid." the more rational part of his mind (the part that had rarely visited before his imprisonment) had woken up. "Harry is no idiot. He'll be upset and disbelieving at first, but once he sees the evidence, he'll understand that it's the truth."

The rational part seemed to have won over the insecure part, so Sirius allowed himself to stop pacing and sink into a chair. Now was not the time for self-doubts. He mentally went through the list of all the things he had planned for Harry. It was a long list, and Sirius would be happy if they managed to finish even half of them this summer.

"Priority is the key" he muttered to himself. Just then, he felt the wards shift slightly. That indicated that the team had left to pick up Harry. A surprisingly large number of people had volunteered to "escort" his the Boy-who-lived.

Sirius had about two hours to kill, so he decided to do a bit of research for Harry's upcoming trial. As he headed upstairs, he double-checked the wards to make sure that it would inform him when Harry arrived. He paused at the entrance of the library looking around. He had done a fine job, even he said so himself.

The library was nothing like the dusty one in Hogwarts. The Black family library already had thousands of ancient tomes on magic. Sirius had made sure to add to that collection, the most recent advances in every field – Spell crafting, Warding, Healing, TechnoMagic, … every subject had at least a shelf of books dedicated to it. At the centre of the library, on a small table, was placed Sirius' most recent addition – a computer. This was no ordinary Muggle computer, but an innovation from the field of TechnoMagic. Sirius had installed it weeks ago and a simple uploading spell had made it easy to find any book in his library.

Sirius quickly typed in his query "British Laws on underage magic". In less than two seconds he had an answer:

"The information you requested can be found in the following books:

A comprehensive guide to Juvenile Justice – By Martha P. Holmes

A guide to the Special Educational Needs Act (1960) – By David Marshall

British Criminal Justice and Public Safety – By Jacob Wright …"

Marveling at the speed of the device, he proceeded to click on one of the links and was provided with a summary of the book he wanted.

Clicking on the "Retrieve" button, he watched as a small box next to the computer flashed and then pinged. He opened it and found the book he wanted – "A Handbook of British Laws on Underage Magic". Sirius glanced at the edition – 1963. But there was a small stamp on the back with the words "Self-updating".

"Thank Merlin" he muttered. For once, he was glad that his family had been snooty enough to buy only self-updating books, even though they cost three times as much as ordinary versions.

An hour later, Sirius was having a pounding headache. All that legalese was driving him mad. He carefully marked the page he was reading, and placed the book aside for later. He spent the rest of the hour surfing the Magi-web.

Invented in the early-1990s, the Magi-web was the Magical world's answer to the Internet. It was invented in India, and had been hugely successful in connecting small wizarding settlements located in remote corners of the country. Since then it had spread to other parts of the wizarding world.

No electricity was needed. A techno-magic computer, a small magic-to-energy converter, and a magic satellite were all that were needed to log on. Once connected, there were hundreds of sites on countless subjects. A new modification even made it possible to access Muggle websites using the same computer.

Sirius had expected to be behind the times when he had escaped Azkaban, but the sheer number of life-changing inventions that had taken place during his incarceration still amazed him. Unfortunately, while Muggle Britain had kept pace with the rest of the world, British wizards were still stuck in the past and refused to accept anything that didn't fit in with their sense of "tradition".

Sirius felt the tingling sensation from his wards that always signaled someone was entering his house. Harry was finally here!

He raced down the stairs as quickly as he could, and just as he reached the first floor landing, he heard voices.

"Harry dear, you look so thin! What have those Muggles been feeding you? Never mind. Now that you're here, I'll make sure I fatten you up nicely before you head back to Hogwarts." Molly had already intercepted Harry.

"Really Mrs. Weasley, I'm fine." Harry replied quietly.

"If you say so." Sirius could hear her disbelieving tone. "The rest of you can join the meeting in the kitchen."

"What meeting?" Harry was curious.

"Nothing to concern yourself about, dear." Molly replied, a bit sharply. "You must be really eager to meet your friends. They've missed you so much! Just go to the second floor, and enter the last room on the right. Ron's staying there and I'll have your things sent up later."

"Yes Mrs. Weasley." He heard Harry sigh, and start to trudge up the stairs. Sirius crept quietly back up the stairs to the second floor. Molly was still within hearing, and if she heard Sirius greeting Harry, she was bound to interfere.

Luckily the second floor landing was empty. The kids were all in their rooms. He could welcome Harry as exuberantly as he liked. Just in case, he cast a silencing charm in the hallway that would dissipate in five minutes.

And then…he was face to face with his godson.

"Harry!" he cried out.

Harry's face had an identical expression of joy.

"Sirius!" he all but jumped into his arms.

Sirius clutched him tightly. "Missed you." He whispered softly into his hair.

"Missed you too." Harry whispered back before looking up at him. "Sirius, what's going on? What is this place?"

"Not here. Come with me." Sirius led him to a room on the third floor. At the door he raised his wand and conjured a sign "Harry's room".

"This…this is my room?" Harry seemed surprised.

Sirius grinned back at him. "Let's look inside, shall we?"

In the center of the room was the bed covered with a dark blue quilt. A small bedside table with a lamp stood right next to it. Thick curtains covered the window on the left wall. A simple study table and wardrobe were placed on the other end of the room. A door leading to the bathroom was on the opposite side. The entire room was done up in blue shades.

Sirius watched carefully as Harry eyes swept from one end of the room to the other, taking in everything. He had deliberately made Harry's bedroom look like an ordinary teenager's room, in case any anyone "happened" to walk in when the wards were down, but even then Harry was looking at the room as though it were the height of luxury. Damn those Dursleys, he thought for the zillionth time.

"Like it?" Sirius asked

"Love it!" Harry beamed back at him, happily.

"Good. Now before I answer your questions…" Sirius raised his wand again, and raised the privacy wards connected to the room.

Harry opened his mouth to ask him something, but Sirius cut him off.

"There are a lot of things I need to tell you, but we have only an hour till dinner. I'll explain everything in a lot more detail after that, but until then let me get the most important things out of the way. Okay?"

Harry nodded.

"Come here." Sirius sat on the bed and gestured towards the chair for Harry to sit. He did so, looking expectantly at Sirius.

"First of all, let me fill you in on everything that's been happening since I left you." Began Sirius. "You saw for yourself that Fudge is refusing to accept that Voldemort is back. He wants to believe that if he pretends hard enough, then his problems will go away. So he's been keeping the public in the dark. Have you seen even a hint of Voldemort's return in the Daily Prophet?"

"No. Just the usual rubbish." Harry answered sourly.

"Not just the usual rubbish." Sirius corrected. "The Prophet has been subtly mounting a campaign to discredit you and Dumbledore"

"What! I didn't read anything like that!" Harry looked stunned.

"It's not very obvious. You and Dumbledore are among the most influential people in Wizarding Britain. Fudge knows that he can't keep the public quiet if the two of you keep declaring that Voldemort is back. So he's trying to make you out to be an attention seeking liar, and Dumbledore as a senile old man."

"Why didn't I see anything like that?" Harry questioned.

"You have to read the articles pretty closely to spot it. Hold on, I'll show you a few of them." Sirius replied, and then called out "Kreacher!"

Kreacher appeared with a crack, and bowed respectfully to Sirius. ""Master calls?"

"Kreacher, kindly bring Harry's belongings to this room, along with a few newspapers from last week."

"Yes Master." Kreacher disappeared.

"That was my family elf" Sirius told Harry. "Don't be surprised when I treat him badly in front of everyone else."

"Why would you do that?" Harry asked.

"I need everyone to think that he and I don't get along. I'll explain why later." Answered Sirius.

"Here, Master" Kreacher had appeared with Harry's things. He handed over a bunch of papers to Sirius.

"Thank you, Kreacher. That will be all." The elf bowed low and left.

Sirius sat next to Harry on the bed, and scanned through one of the papers. "Look at this" he handed one of them to Harry.

**CANON'S CAPTAIN CONFIDENT OF VICTORY**

-By Timothy Reid

The Chuddley Cannon's quidditch team is perhaps most well known for holding the record for the longest streak of straight losses. But in an interview with this reporter, Richard Blackstone, Captain of the Chuddley Cannons declared that he is almost certain that his team will be this season's Champions League Trophy winners.

"We've all trained really hard for this season. I'm pretty sure everyone will remember this year as the year of the Canons." Said Richard.

When asked what he thought of his rival's confident proclamations, Daniel Patterson, Captain of the Falmouth Falcons, last year's winning team, only laughed heartily and said "Dream on."

Other sports commentators expressed similar doubts, some even going so far as to say that pronouncing a Cannon victory is like declaring You-Know-Who back from the dead.

Will Richards' delusional predictions come true? We'll just have to wait and watch.

------------

Harry stared at the page in front of him. Sirius handed him another paper. He read that article too. And another. And another. Finally he couldn't take it anymore and burst out,

"Let's hope he hasn't got a scar on his forehead or we'll be asked to worship him next?" Harry looked at Sirius incredulously. "I _don't_ want anyone to worship me!"

"Anyone who knows you will know that", said Sirius. "But how many people do you know well enough to consider your friends?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, still frowning.

"Harry, in the four years you've been at Hogwarts, how many people have you bothered to get to know? Ron and Hermione. Maybe your quidditch team. That's it. You've not interacted with students from any other House or year. Why do you think they turned against you so easily last year? Nobody knew the real you. All they know about you is what they've heard from other people – rumors. That's why most of them are going to believe these articles."

"So it's my fault?" snarled Harry, angrily.

"Partly", Sirius said, not bothering to sugar-coat his words.

Harry looked up stunned before lowering his gaze once again.

Sirius decided to deal with that issue later, and ploughed on. "So Fudge is busy running a smear campaign. Voldemort is more than happy to stay quiet, recover, and strengthen his position, while his opposition fights among themselves."

"So what are you doing about it?" Harry asked.

"Dumbledore's not doing anything about Fudge. But as far as Voldemort is concerned, Dumbledore's activated the Order of Phoenix again. It's a secret organization he formed in the First war. This place – my childhood home, is being used as headquarters", answered Sirius.

"Were you a member the last time?"

"Yes. Your parents, Remus and Peter were members as well."

"So what do you do? Do you fight Death Eaters? Are you telling everybody the truth?" Harry questioned.

"Harry, I just told you, This is a _secret_ organization. And this time around, we've got to deal with both the Ministry _and _Voldemort. If we go around trying to convince people of Voldemort's return, they will be identified as members and persecuted. Everyone knows about the existence of the Order but no one knows exactly who its members are", explained Sirius.

"What do you do then?" Harry asked again.

"Honestly? I don't know. It's _supposed _to be a platform to exchange information on Voldemort and his activities. It's _supposed _to fight Voldemort and his minions when they choose to go on rampages. But as of now, Voldemort is lying low, so everyone is basically sitting idle, twiddling their thumbs, waiting for his next move." Sirius sighed.

"That's insane! How can you do nothing? We should be taking advantage of the fact that he's not doing anything. Dumbledore should be training anyone who is willing to believe him. Someone should be spying on the Death Eaters. We should be preparing safe houses for the Muggleborns. We need to prepare for this war!" Harry was nearly hysterical.

Sirius was _very_ impressed. Clearly, his godson had given the matter a lot of thought during his stay at the Dursley's. "I agree. But Dumbledore doesn't see it that way. I know that we're short of resources, but we should be doing _something_. There's only one thing he's had us doing all summer."

"What's that?"

"Guard duty."

Harry stood up, suddenly furious. "First, I was sent to the Dursley's, with no information from my friends" he spat. "Then I have guards watching over me, and no one tells me. Where were my guards when I was attacked by the Dementors? When they nearly kissed my cousin? When I got expelled?", his volume rising with every question.

"Are you done?" Sirius questioned and Harry glared at him.

"I didn't support the decision to send Order members to Privet Drive. As for the lack of information, Dumbledore made sure that your friends promised not to inform you of anything related to the war." He made a face. "For your safety of course," he said sarcastically.

Harry didn't miss his tone. "It sounds like you don't like Dumbledore."

"Smart boy." Sirius grinned at him. Harry looked surprised for a moment, before snorting.

"He's not my most favourite person now, either."

"My dear godson, you don't know half of it. I've been waiting for ages for you to come here, so that I could explain everything to you in person." His mood suddenly grew somber, as he thought of the magnitude of the revelations he would be making tonight.

Harry expression instantly grew worried." Sirius", he said uncertainly. "What's going on?"

Sirius glanced at the clock. "After dinner, I'm going to tell you _everything._ And believe me when I say - you're not going to believe half the things I tell you."


	5. First steps

_Disclaimer: The Harry Potter series belongs to J.K Rowling_

**Chapter 5 - First steps**

Sirius eyed his apprehensive looking godson and stretched out his arm. "Come here." Harry sat next to him on the bed and he put his arm around his shoulders.

"A lot of people don't want me to tell you _anything._ Some have a vested interest in doing so, and some believe that you should enjoy what's left of your _childhood_", he said gently.

Harry made to interrupt, but Sirius continued, "I believe, however, that your parents appointed me your guardian for a reason. To do what is best for you. And I believe that keeping you in the dark, for whatever reason, is stupid, and will probably backfire spectacularly." Harry shifted and looked up at him gratefully.

"I loved your parents, and I love you Harry, from the moment I first held you in my arms. I'll always want you to be happy and safe, and I'll do anything to make sure you stay that way." Harry's eyes were suspiciously shiny. He looked down at the floor, and nodded jerkily.

Sirius hesitated, and then continued, "But there are some people here…who do not have your best interests at heart, or think that they know what is best for you. Like – " he took a deep breath and continued, "Ron and Hermione".

To his surprise, Harry didn't immediately start shouting denials. Instead he looked at Sirius patiently, waiting for an explanation. Sirius supposed that the lack of information this summer had really opened his eyes to a few things.

"From what you've told me, Ron is what they call a fair-weather friend. He's happy to be by your side and lap up all the attention when the going is good, but he's always looking for ways to upstage you." He looked at Harry trying to gauge his reaction. But Harry just bade him to continue.

"He may not always be like that. He'll have to eventually give up his petty jealous ways if he wants to grow up. But I think he's holding you back. You're afraid to outshine him and lose his friendship."

Harry sighed. "I told you in my last letter that I've been thinking a lot this summer. Especially about the tournament. I told him that I forgave him for not believing me, but I'm still wary of him lashing out at me like that again."

He looked lost in thought for a moment. "But I don't think he's – to use your term – a fair weather friend. That would imply that he turns his back on me when things get tough right? But apart from the Tournament, he's always been there for me. The first year, he and Hermione were willing to face Voldemort with me. In my second year, when the whole school thought I was evil because I could speak parseltongue, both of them stood by my side. And in the third year, you saw for yourself in the Shrieking Shack. He was willing to _die_ for me. I just don't know…"

Sirius was glad that Harry had heard him out, and hearing his point of view explained a few things.

"In my second year, when the Dursley's locked me up, he and the twins rescued me in their dad's flying car. And then his family took me in and looked after me. I thought then – so this is how a family is supposed to be."

Harry was staring miserably at the floor. "That's why last year came as such a shock to me. It started at the World Cup. I bought him a pair of omnioculars and he unknowingly paid me back with leprechaun's gold. When he found out he started sniping about the fact that I had money. And when he turned against me - I couldn't believe it. This was not the Ron I considered my best friend."

"And Hermione?" Sirius gently asked.

"What about her?" Harry looked up confused. "She stood by me even when Ron didn't. She helped me practice all the spells I needed to learn for the tasks."

"Are you closer to Hermione than Ron now?" Sirius questioned.

"She's nice and all, but she not interested in the same things I am. Ron's just easier to talk to about Quidditch and stuff, you know? I know she cares, but sometimes she nags a bit too much" Harry admitted the last bit sheepishly.

Sirius looked at Harry thoughtfully, and asked "Do you find yourself drifting away from them?"

Harry looked a bit startled before groaning and covering his face with his hands. "I'm a horrible friend, aren't I? I just wish things could get back to the way they were. But it can't. They don't know what its like! I can't help it! I -"

"Harry!" Sirius cut off his babbling. "Listen to me", he said sternly, holding his shoulders. "You're **not** a bad friend. Got it? People grow apart all the time. I thought that the Marauders would stay best friends forever. We would risk our lives every month to be by Moony's side. Look what happened to us. I _knew_ that Remus was one of the kindest people I've ever known. He _knew_ that I hated my family and anything remotely connected to the Dark Arts. Yet we both suspected each other of joining Voldemort."

Harry still looked a bit disbelieving, so Sirius continued. "Besides, you're right. They _don't _know what it's like. They've grown up in happy homes, loved and protected. I don't believe Ron knows what its like to go hungry for even a day. They can turn to their parents for any problem, which I'm sure would seem relatively trivial compared to yours. You've faced Voldemort and lived to talk about it more times than anyone else. And now, he's back and you need to prepare. You can't afford to hold back anymore for fear that they'll get jealous of you. And if they prevent you, in any way, from doing what you need to do to survive this war, then they're not the friends you thought they were."

Harry's mouth was hanging open by the end of this impassioned speech. He stared at Sirius for a few moments obviously trying to take it all in. Finally he blurted out, "Why would they stop me from preparing for this war?"

"Because you're going to train, harder than ever before. You're going to need to study long hours, revising everything you were taught _and _studying ahead. You can't just be competent, you need to _excel. _You're going to learn everything you can about your family and heritage, and make use of every bit of power you have to fight this war. You're sometimes even going to have to use your fame to help you achieve your goals. Some people you thought were your friends will end up in the opposite camp. You cannot afford to show them any mercy. You're going to make new friends and new allies."

By this point Sirius had stood up, eyes blazing, towering over his wide-eyed godson.

"And if it bruises Hermione's precious ego, when you eventually surpass her knowledge, or if Ron gets upset that you don't just fool around doing nothing anymore, _there is nothing you can do!_ They're not the ones who have to battle the Ministry, and Death Eaters, and Voldemort. If they let their petty jealousy get in the way of your friendship, you just have to accept it and move on." Sirius was nearly panting at the end of his rant.

"DINNER IN FIVE MINUTES", Molly's magically amplified throughout the house.

Sirius cringed at the volume and then sighed as he ran his hand through his hair. He wasn't sure if he had managed to get through to his godson yet.

He sat back down next to Harry, but didn't continue. He was watching the myriad of expressions passing through his face – anger, confusion, worry, and finally, resignation. He sat quietly for a few moments before speaking up.

"I don't know what to say." He looked positively miserable. "I've always seen them as the perfect friends, but you're right. I'm going to have to be doing a lot of training and preparing, and I don't think they'll accept it so easily that things are going to be different for me from now on."

Sirius nodded silently, and wrapped his arms around Harry, pulling him into a comforting embrace. Harry remained still for a bit before asking, "Did Dumbledore ask you to speak to me about this?"

Sirius snorted at that. "Hell no! I told you, it was Dumbledore who wanted you to stay at Privet Drive, and it was Dumbledore who asked your friends not to inform you about anything related to the war. He has no intention of giving you any sort of training, and would rather keep you uninformed about everything going on."

Harry looked up at him, surprised. "So you went behind his back to tell me all this?"

Sirius looked down at his godson and said, "Harry, I don't care what Dumbledore or Molly or anyone in the Order thinks I should or shouldn't tell you. I'm going to do everything I can to keep you safe. And keeping you informed is just the first step."


	6. Escaping confrontations

**Chapter 6 – Escaping confrontations**

Sirius and Harry talked about the Dursley's reaction to the Dementor incident as they headed down the stairs for dinner. "After I managed to lug my cousin back home, I had to deal with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. They were terrified when they saw him in that state. Dudley couldn't see the Dementors so he thought that I had done something to him. Both of them were going to kill me for harming their precious Diddykins." He shook his head, ruefully.

"I was in a right state as it is. Dementors had attacked me in a Muggle neighbourhood? I had invisible guards watching me all summer? Arabella Figg was a squib? I was still trying to wrap my brain around the whole situation, when the ministry letter came, telling me I was expelled and that my wand was going to be snapped. On top of it all, Uncle Vernon was demanding that I tell him what had attacked his son. So I told him – they were Dementors." He glanced at Sirius from the corner of his eye.

"Aunt Petunia suddenly blurted out that they were the guards at the wizarding prison. She said that she had overhead my mom and dad talking about it. She seemed horrified that she had uttered such _freakish_ stuff", he said, as the corners of his mouth twitched. upwards.

They had just reached the hallway, when they came face to face with Ron and Hermione.

"Harry!" Hermione squealed, giving him a hug. "When did you get here?"

"About an hour ago." Harry replied, as Ron slapped his back. Hermione frowned a bit at his unenthusiastic reply.

"Why didn't you come see us mate? We wanted to know all about the Dementor attack." Ron didn't seem to notice the tension.

"I was catching up with Sirius", he said, before turning to Sirius. "Come on, Padfoot! I'm starving."

Sirius laughed and allowed himself to be dragged into the kitchen, leaving a perplexed Ron and Hermione behind.

Sirius observed that Harry was making sure that they sat at the other end of the table, which was already almost full, so that Ron and Hermione would not be able to sit next to them. His godson obviously needed time to think things through before they eventually confronted him.

While Sirius sat at the end of the table on Harry's left, the twins sat on his right. Remus was sitting across them, next to Bill and Moody.

Throughout dinner, Hermione and Ron kept shooting Harry puzzled looks from the other end of the table, obviously wondering why he had brushed them off like that. Harry, for his part, was appearing not to notice, as he engaged those around him in conversation. He listened with interest as Bill talked about the goblins' stance to the upcoming war especially in the light of their dealings with Ludo Bagman.

"What role do goblins play in the war?" Harry asked, genuinely curious.

"Well historically, the goblins have never involved themselves directly in wizarding wars. They've got a rep of being neutral. But during the First War, they quietly co-operated with the Ministry against Death Eaters. Apparently, too many witches and wizards were fleeing Britain to far off places like America, taking their gold with them. Since only Europe, particularly England, France, Germany and Austria have goblin-run banking systems, the Goblins knew that much of this gold would not be re-deposited in one of their branches." Bill explained.

"Now after Bagman swindled them of their gold, they're refusing to even talk about any possibility of cooperating. They just want to kick up a big fuss, but eventually they will help, for the same reasons as before. If there's one thing I know about goblins, it's that they all have massive egos. There will be a lot of placating and cajoling, and possibly a promise of helping them recover their money, before they agree to cooperate."

"What do you mean cooperate? Do they leak out account information or something?" asked Harry.

"Of course not! They'd be driven out of business if they ever did something like that. This is just informal information, stuff they hear through their sources. How do you think I managed to trace Rosier? The goblins 'happened' to overhear the location of his hideout." barked Moody, as he touched his nose a bit self-consciously.

Sirius smiled a bit grimly, remembering his own encounter with the vicious Death Eater. He managed to get Moody recount some of his encounters with Death Eaters, so that Harry had the opportunity to learn a bit from the _real_ Mad-Eye.

Eventually, Molly, who had been eyeing them suspiciously, burst out "Why must you talk about such negative things, that too at dinner? Dumbledore made it clear that Harry does not need to hear about the war."

Sirius simply rolled his eyes and let it go. After all, he would be telling Harry everything going on, in great detail, once this meal was over. Harry, however, was looking a bit put out with Molly.

As everyone was digging into their desert (chocolate pudding - Sirius' favourite), Harry observed Tonks morphing her face in response to requests from Hermione and Ginny.

"Metamorphs run in the Black Family." Sirius said quietly.

"She told me that it can't be learnt." Harry smiled back, a little wistfully.

"That's partly true. You can only be born a metamorphmagus. But anyone can learn how to channel their magic to the surface for certain transformations. Can you give me an example of what kind of transformation?" Sirius asked, seeing no harm in jumpstarting his getting-Harry-to-use-his-own-brain plan.

"Umm…", Harry was thinking furiously. "The animagus transformation?" he asked a bit uncertainly.

"That's right. That's why it's so difficult to master the transformation. Most witches and wizards have their magic buried deep within them, in what is known as the core. When you use your wand, magic flows through one of the many channels in the body, into the wand. For the animagus transformation, you have to literally pull your magic right up to the skin surface. Metamorphs are born with a large number of channels right below the skin surface, so it makes it easier for them to transform", explained Sirius.

"The channel theory also explains the werewolf transformation", added Remus, who had been listening to their conversation. "During the full moon, the magic inside a werewolf's body is forcefully pulled to the surface in order to complete the change. It's the forceful pulling of magic, against the person's will, that causes the pain of transformation."

"The same thing happens to Veelas. Except in their case, its powerful emotions like anger or excitement that push them to transform", said Bill.

"Learnt that from Fleur, did you?", Fred (or was it George?) asked, as they both waggled their eyebrows suggestively.

"I didn't know all those _English_ lessons you're giving her would be so productive", said the other one, as they both batted their eyelashes, and then pretended to swoon.

"Shut it you two or you'll be on the receiving end of one of my mummifying spells", snapped Bill, but everyone could see the slight pink tinge under his freckles.

As dinner wound up, Harry yawned, and Sirius, getting the hint, slung his arm around Harry's shoulders and said, loud enough for everyone to hear, "Why don't you go straight to bed, Harry? You've had a long day and you must be tired after all the excitement."

Harry nodded sleepily, his eyes half-shut. As Sirius steered him from the kitchen, past a waiting Ron and Hermione, he couldn't help but marvel at his godson's formidable acting skills. Perhaps it wasn't too late to make a Maruader out of Harry.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**Authors' notes: **(1) What Petunia actually meant was that she heard Lily and _Snape_ discussing about Dementors. However Harry assumes she's talking about his mom and dad, since she just uses the word "boy" to refer to Snape.

(2) Yes, yes I know, my chapters have gotten shorter. I've been trying to build them around a common theme and that worked well in the beginning. I'm trying to make up for the length by posting two at a time. But stick around, Chapter 7- Revelations is a nice long juicy chapter of nearly the same length as the first chapter.

(3) Thank you for your wonderful reviews. I had initially planned to post only one chapter per week, but I hate to disappoint so I'm trying to work twice as fast as before. Last checked, this story had 3,100+ hits.


	7. Revelations

**Chapter 7 - Revelations**

As soon as they had reached Harry's room, Sirius made sure to check and double-check all the wards he had put up. Then when he was finally satisfied, he turned and spotted Harry watching him anxiously. In a few moments, thought Sirius sadly, the poor boy's life would be turned upside down.

He opened the drawer of the bedside table and pulled out a pensieve. Then he asked Harry to put in the memories of all the "adventures" he had experienced while at Hogwarts. And so it began.

Harry would put in a memory, they would watch it together (Sirius fast-forwarding the memory wherever necessary), and then Sirius after giving Harry some relevant information, would ask him a set of pointed questions.

"The Hogwarts wards are tied to the Headmaster. Why did he not notice the fact that Hagrid was illegally raising a dragon in his hut, let alone the facts that a Troll had entered the school or that the protections around the stone had been overcome?"

"The Hogwarts wards allow ghosts to reside in the school, but have protections in place to prevent any form of possession. You know who the wards alert in case of a violation. Why did Dumbledore not detect Ginny's possession by the diary, and Quirrel's possession the year before?"

"Dumbledore is a legilimens – what Muggles call a mind reader. Shouldn't he have been able to sense that Quirrel was being influenced by some external force, since he was a staff member who he was in daily contact with? Could he not have looked into the mind of the petrified victims and viewed the last thoughts they had before the attack?"

"Dumbledore and Moody have known each other for over 40 years now. If you knew someone that long, even if they were your enemy, would you not have noticed that he had been replaced by an imposter?"

"Before he was removed, Dumbledore was the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. The Chief Warlock is independent of the Ministry and has even been known in the past, to bring charges of corruption against incumbent Ministers. Why did he not provide me with a trial if he was convinced of my innocence?"

"There are several children attending Hogwarts, whose parents died during the First War, fighting for Dumbledore's side. Why has he not interfered with their living arrangements? Why is he _still _interfering with yours?"

The questions continued in the same vein for some time. At first, Harry attempted to defend Dumbledore, trying to justify his actions with excuses. But as the evidence (from _his own_ memories) began to mount, he fell silent.

When they had covered all of Harry's memories of the Hogwarts' incidents, Sirius moved on to his own memories. He showed Harry the Order meetings that had taken place in the past and they watched as Dumbledore subtly manipulated people into doing what he wanted. They viewed memories of James, Lily, Dumbledore and Sirius talking about the need for protection and the benefits of the Fidelus. They watched Sirius' memory of finding Godric Hollow in ruins, and how Hagrid convinced him to hand over his godson _because Dumbledore said so._ With each memory, Sirius pointed out his observations of Dumbledore's failings.

Then, he pulled out memories of the recent Order meetings – meetings where Dumbledore seemed perfectly happy doing nothing. Harry watched, disgusted, as people fell over themselves, attempting to be part of the Boy-who-lived's Guard. His face fell as he watched his best friends agree to keep him in the dark. He watched as Molly screeched and badgered and finally convinced everyone that "Harry is only a boy! He needs to be protected. We shouldn't burden him with the pain of war."

It was three in the morning when they finally finished. Harry simply stared at Sirius pale-faced and tired. He had long since overcome the feelings of shock and betrayal. He looked so lost that Sirius didn't hesitate to pull him into a hug. He could feel Harry's shoulders' shaking with suppressed emotion.

"Why hasn't anyone noticed all this?" Harry croaked out, after pulling himself together.

"Some people have. They've tried to reveal Dumbledore's true nature to the world, but they stood no chance against Dumbledore's power. But in the international community he's very much a despised figure. They call him the Shadow Dictator or some such rot. I've heard that several ICW member countries were thrilled when he got kicked out last month", explained Sirius.

Harry nodded in understanding, but a frown marred his face. "Sirius", he asked fearfully, "What chance do _we _have against a man like Dumbledore?"

Sirius grinned so wide, that Harry looked thoroughly startled. "I'm glad you asked, Harry. Put yourself in Dumbledore's shoes for a moment okay? Do you think, after all the games he's played, he'd be sleeping peacefully at night? He's bound to know that sooner or later, someone will come along and challenge his authority, or worse – reveal every single manipulation his done. He's constantly alert and afraid of when that day will arrive."

Sirius paused to gather his thoughts. "So he observes everyone he considers a threat, even lets some of them aim a few blows at him. Then, when he's finally sure that he's got his prey trapped, he strikes so hard that they have no hope of ever recovering. If anyone else is watching, they'll learn too – it doesn't pay to mess with Dumbledore. So he's managed to eliminate a few threats, but this is a never-ending game. He can't afford to stop and rest, for fear of when the next attack will come."

Harry was listening closely to everything he said, but obviously wondering where this was going.

"Now consider this. Dumbledore held nearly every important position of power. Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot? Check. Chairman of the ICW? Check. Head of the Order of Phoenix? Check. Headmaster of Hogwarts? Check. He was practically ordering the Minister of Magic to do his bidding. Now, Dumbledore is a strong wizard, and a smart man, but even he knows that it's not possible to keep watch on everything that's happening at once. So what does he do? He considers who is most likely opposition will be." Sirius looked at Harry, and asked,"So who do you think that is?"

"Every Death Eater who escaped imprisonment." Harry answered promptly.

"That's right. How many Death Eaters were active during the first war? About two hundred. Thirty are now dead. Forty are still in prison today. How many potential threats does that leave? A hundred and thirty"

Harry's mouth dropped open at that bit of spectacular math.

"And we're only talking about marked Death Eaters here. Voldemort had a sizeable number of unmarked supporters as well. Many of them belonging to the old pureblood families. Now some of them might believe that Voldemort is dead, but what they were actually supporting was his agenda. Should another leader come by, holding the same beliefs that they do, they would be happy to throw all of their political influence behind him."

Harry was speechless.

"So we've come to the conclusion that the Death Eaters still have plenty of clout to keep Dumbledore on his toes. Then he has to worry about well-meaning citizens, who may have observed some of his shady deeds, but not really realized their significance, talking to someone who might be able to connect the dots. He also spends a lot of effort trying to block all the negative stories going around in the international community, from ever reaching Britain. He does all this in the middle of balancing all the paper work that his position brings him. He may have lost some of his many positions, but any time saved, is now spent wondering how to combat Voldemort – his biggest threat." explained Sirius.

"Do you think he'd consider a brooding old ex-convict and a clueless teenager, as high on his list of potential threats? Especially if we do nothing that attracts his attention?" Sirius asked, grinning slyly.

"Sirius – you're a genius!" Harry laughed happily, giving him a huge hug, and ignoring the fact that his godfather had basically insulted him.

Sirius happily returned the hug and then stood up, tugging his hand. "Come on! I've been dying to show you all the preparations I've made."

"Uh Sirius – why are we heading towards the bathroom?" Harry asked, looking like he was considering withdrawing the "genius" remark.

Sirius ignored the question, pulled Harry in and shut the bathroom door. A full-length mirror hung on the other side of the door. Sirius pressed a tiny rune etched on top right corner.

Suddenly colors began to swirl in the mirror, and then the mirror _yawned. _

"What the …!" Harry's eyes were popping open.

Where there was glass earlier, a set of staircases had formed. Sirius dragged Harry up the stairs, not-so-quietly repeating Harry's earlier sentence, in a high-pitched voice that strangely resembled Celestina Warbeck. "Why are we heading towards the bathroom, Sirius? Oh no, Sirius! We're heading towards the _bathroom. _The room of doom!" He'd have continued in this vein for some time, if Harry had not smacked him hard on his shoulder.

By the time he had finished rubbing his bruised shoulder, they reached a wall that was bare except for a small door knocker. Sirius lifted it and knocked in a specific way.

"Memorise the pattern", he told Harry, as the wall simply melted into thin air. They stepped in and Harry gasped.

To Harry, it must have seemed as though they had stepped into another building. Sirius had made sure that the upper floors had modern spacious interiors, a sharp contrast to the rest of the house. The rooms had massive picture windows, polished wooden floors, and tasteful, comfortable furniture. Unlike the drab, dreary floors below them, this place seemed to exude a warm, homely appeal.

"What is this place?" Harry whispered.

"This Harry, is where we train"

Sirius smiled at Harry's look of awe. "This is your _real_ room, where you'll have your lessons, read books, or finish your homework."

"Lessons?" asked Harry.

"Yup," answered Sirius. "See this case?" he said pointing to a set of shelves stacked with what looked like rows and rows of test-tubes. On closer inspection, each one appeared to contain some kind of silvery substance.

Sirius pulled out one of the test tubes and showed Harry the label - Theory of Magic: Volume I, Lesson 1. "Each one of these contains memories of lectures by leading subject-matter experts. Many scholars actually make a living by selling pensieve memories of their lectures. They're used extensively by home-schooled kids."

He headed to the pensieve stand in the center of the room and poured the swirling substance in. "Come on!" he said, pulling a startled Harry in with him.

They found themselves seated on a bench right in front of the rows of students that filled the class. A middle-aged man, with salt-and-pepper hair, stood in front of a large whiteboard.

"Good afternoon, everyone and welcome to the first lecture of the Theory of Magic. My name is Albert Latimer. Most of you have become familiar with learning to throw around spells, but in this class, we're going to understand what it is that actually gets magic to flow at will, the rules magic follows, and its limitations." He paused to drink a sip of water.

"To get started, we're first going to take a brief walk through history, and see what our forefathers theorized about magic. Magical theory has evolved over time, and varies rather dramatically from place to place." He waved his wand and a series of pictures appeared on the board.

"Let's look at the Celts first." One of the pictures zoomed into focus. "Descendants of Indo-Europeans, they practiced magic extensively – casting basic spells and making rudimentary potions. Unfortunately, very little written work about their beliefs has found their way into modern times. What we do know is that they believed that magic sprung forth from nature – not the core, as we know today. They considered trees to be sacred, particularly the oak tree, as they believed that they held the strongest connection to nature, and hence magic."

As he spoke, the pictures on the board moved to match his words. Sirius noticed Harry was paying rapt attention, despite the unearthly hour. They watched as the man took them through the theories of magical users around the world. At times, he would stop and play a video clipping of famous theorists, talking about their views, and other times, he would actually show them memories of certain magical communities using magic in their own unique way.

Sirius had only planned to spend ten minutes watching the lecture, but they ended up spending half an hour. He managed to convince a reluctant Harry to watch the rest of the lecture some other time, so that he could see the rest of Sirius' preparations.

"That was really good! Did you see the way that tribal elder did magic without a wand? And that crystal magic thing? That was amazing! Why can't Hogwarts lectures be like that?" Harry looked like he had thoroughly enjoyed the lesson.

"Tell me about it! The Hogwarts faculty has made no effort to improve. They don't bother finding out what's going on in the outside world and end up teaching you all sorts of outdated stuff" said Sirius, shaking his head with disgust.

Harry's expression mirrored his own. "Then what is the point of giving the OWLs and NEWTs? You're just going to have to relearn everything anyway."

"It doesn't matter if you're going to stay in the British wizarding world. Wizards here seem to be more than happy with mediocrity. But students, who choose to continue their studies or work abroad, find themselves way behind their peers. Which is why I don't want you to bother about your OWLs," said Sirius, waiting for Harry's reaction.

Harry was predictably shocked. "What happened to studying hard and excelling?"

Sirius grinned. "That plan is still on. Don't think you're off the hook. What I want you to do is take the ISEM exams instead." He walked up to one of the tables and handed Harry a sheaf of pamphlets. Harry settled himself on a couch, and Sirius sat next to him.

"The International Standard Examinations for Magical beings" Harry read out loud.

"The ISEM is of a much higher standard than the OWLs and NEWTs. You've got to give three levels before you graduate. Then you become eligible to apply for a Master's course anywhere in the world, unlike the NEWTs, which are only accepted in Britain. " explained Sirius.

Harry nodded while reading the pamphlet intently. "It says here that I've got to take at least seven Magic-based subjects and three non-magical subjects for Level 1. Let's see …" he traced his finger down the long list of subject options.

"Sirius! What are these subjects? Warding. Spell crafting. Empathic and mind magic. Protective magic. I've never even heard of them! And the Muggle subjects? It's been _ages_ since I touched upon them!" said Harry as he looked up, a trifle wide-eyed.

Sirius chuckled, and raised his hand in mock-surrender. "Hey, I don't expect you to be ready by the end of _this _year. But I definitely want you to give it a shot next year. Don't waste your time studying for the OWLs. Most of its syllabus is covered here anyway. This is a much better option, Harry. It'll give you a lot of opportunities."

Harry nodded, but still looked a bit overwhelmed.

"I made sure that I bought pensieve lessons for all of the subjects in the list. The lectures are by some of the best teachers in the world, so they will be interesting to look at, even if you don't end up taking those subjects", said Sirius.

"I'm guessing we won't be letting anyone else in on this plan?" Harry asked, and Sirius raised his eyebrow in a what-do-you-think expression.

"Right" Harry looked down at the pamphlets in his hand, a frown marring his face. "So what do I do if I have doubts? I can't ask the Hogwarts teachers, if it's stuff that's out of their syllabus, or they'll get suspicious. Will you be able to help me?"

Sirius treated Harry to one of his best Marauder smiles. "Come with me."

As they stepped out of the room, Harry asked, "Doesn't anyone in this house wonder what you're doing up here all day?"

"That's actually the first thing I took care of when I got this house" said Sirius, as they headed up the stairs. "To them it looks like there are only four floors in the house. That room on the third floor that I showed you is actually a decoy room. I've made one for myself at the other end of the corridor, next to the room I put Buckbeak in. I've got a secret passage just like yours, heading up to these floors. They think that I sit in my room all day, brooding about the past."

He gave Harry a mischievous grin and continued, "I've actually encouraged that view. I make sure that I show up sometimes for dinner, smelling strongly of Firewhiskey. Then I proceed to ramble about the good old days, and mutter not so quietly about the _rat._"

Harry laughed a bit at that. "The only thing we have to worry about is if one of my friends decides to walk in to my decoy room, and notice that I'm not there."

"Oh that reminds me!" said Sirius, and pulled out a box from his pocket. They stopped at the landing and Sirius handed it to Harry.

"A ring?" Harry was more than a bit perplexed after opening the box.

"The Black family heir ring." said Sirius quietly. Harry looked up sharply.

"You're …you're…" Harry seemed speechless.

"Yes Harry. If I could adopt you, I would. But for the time-being this is all I can do."

Harry's head was bowed and Sirius could see that he was clutching the box tightly.

"Harry …" he said, wondering if he had said the right thing.

Harry suddenly gave him a tight hug, one that conveyed all his happiness and frustration at the circumstances under which this was happening. Sirius smiled a bit sadly and wrapped his arms around him.

"Put it on, kiddo" he said, as they separated, his voice, a bit gruff. "Once you wear it, it'll turn invisible to everyone except the two of us. It has the added benefit of keying the wards to you, and giving your mind a certain degree of protection."

Harry carefully slipped the ring on his finger. The Black family crest, shone brightly for a moment. Harry shuddered.

"What was that?" he asked, startled.

"That's the feeling you get when the wards connect to you. Only the Lord of the family has the right to modify the wards, but other than that the wards will inform you (if you want it to) of the movements of people within the house. So you can ensure that you have sufficient warning if one of your friends begins to head towards your room. Even then, the wards won't allow them to enter unless you want it to" answered Sirius.

"That's one problem taken care off. What did you mean when you said that it will protect my mind?" Harry questioned.

"Remember when I told you about Dumbledore being a legilimens?" Harry nodded. "Well, the art of protecting your mind is called Occlumency. That's something I'll be teaching you personally. It's part of the training every Heir undergoes. Until the Heir masters it, the ring is meant to protect family secrets from being leaked out. It doesn't form a barrier around the mind, but _compels_ anyone looking into your mind to withdraw the intrusion. To them it simply feels as though they had voluntarily done so. But someone with really strong will-power can overcome this protection, so you need to learn Occlumency as soon as possible. This ring will only be able to hide a few very important secrets if your mind is attacked" Sirius said, as they came to stand in front of the doors of the library.

He pushed the doors open, and lights automatically flickered on. Harry stood spellbound (a reaction he had been displayed several times that night) as he looked at the massive library.

"Look at all those books! Hermione would kill to be here." He whispered.

Sirius laughed, and dragged Harry to a corner of the library. Pointing to a huge bookcase, he said, "Pick one."

He watched, as Harry carefully read the names printed on the thin book spines, before choosing "Transfiguration by Regina Cooper." He held it in his hands and looked at Sirius questioningly.

"Open it" said Sirius, gesturing impatiently.

Harry shot Sirius a baffled look, and proceeded to do so.

"Hello there!"

"AAAAAH", Harry screamed and flung the book aside. For a few moments, all that could be heard was Sirius' barking laughter, Harry's curses, and the book's grumbling.

"Well I never! How rude!" the painting in the book, was protesting loudly.

Sirius was still wiping the tears from his eyes, as he picked the book up. "Sorry about that. My godson didn't know what to expect."

He grinned madly as he turned to Harry. "Harry, this is the solution to your problem. You've seen the paintings in Hogwarts haven't you? They can talk and interact with students. The Headmaster's office also has paintings of all the previous headmasters of the school. The paintings are imprints of their real personalities. There's a well known spell that connects a person's memories to the painting."

Harry was still eyeing the book uncertainly. Sirius gestured towards the bookcase. "Each book here contains an interactive painting of the same set of teachers whose pensieve lectures I bought. They can teach you all the theory, solve your doubts, set homework and if you want to watch them cast spells you just need to view the relevant pensieve lesson." He looked down at the painting of Regina Cooper and gave her a charming smile. "Isn't that right, Professor Cooper?"

She smiled back prettily, her earlier irritation apparently gone. "Quite right, Mr.…?"

"Black. Sirius Black. And this young man here is my godson, Harry Potter."

Harry gave her a sheepish wave. "Sorry about that Professor. My godfather was playing a stupid prank on me."

She sniffed. "That's alright Mr. Potter. If I may ask, what level are you at?"

Sirius jumped in. "Actually Harry has been studying at Hogwarts for the past four years. He's aiming at sitting for the Level 1 exam next year. He's going to try and finish as much as he can this month and then study after classes once school starts."

"Difficult but manageable, if you work hard" Regina replied. "Once you decide what subjects you're taking, talk to the respective paintings and work out a schedule."

"Yes Professor" replied Harry, and Sirius shut the book and replaced it on the shelf.

He looked up at Harry and found him glaring at him. "What?" he asked, deciding to try the innocent act.

"I'm _so_ getting you back for that", said Harry, giving him an evil grin.

Sirius gave him an unimpressed look. "I'm terrified." He stated plainly.

"You don't believe me?" asked Harry, raising one eyebrow.

"Oh I believe that you'll certainly _try_ to get back at me. But whether you succeed or not is another question. It's impossible to prank a Marauder, you know."

Harry sniffed and raised his head. "We'll just have to wait and see."

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**Authors' notes: **(1) Whew! This chapter took me ages to finish, because it's linked so closely with future chapters. I can't afford to make any mistakes with this one or I'll write myself into a corner.

(2) Thank you for your reviews! I've received some great suggestions, that have got me thinking in a different direction.

(3) Some of you have wondered what role Ron and Hermione will be playing in this story. As far as I can see this story playing out, I believe that this story is primarily Harry- and Sirius-centric. Neither of Harry's friends are going to turn _evil _but Harry won't be as close to them as in Canon.


	8. Making lists

_Disclaimer: The Harry Potter series belong to J.K. Rowling._

**Chapter 8 – Making lists**

It was five in the morning by the time Sirius had finished showing him the library. Harry's eyes were beginning to droop shut, the long night finally catching up on him. Sirius convinced him to get a few hours of sleep before they started the first day of training. He made sure that he drank a vial of Dreamless sleep (the enchanted sleep it would put him into would help his body recover from the exhaustion faster) and guided the half-asleep boy to his "decoy" room. Deciding to get a bit of sleep himself, he found his way to his room, and crashed out on the bed.

He opened his eyes to find sunlight streaming in through the window. Sirius blearily glanced at the clock and noticed that it was already ten. He yawned and made his way to the bathroom for a quick shower. Once ready, he made his way to Harry's room and found that Harry, who was already ready, was trying to figure out how to retrieve his memories from the pensieve.

He cursed himself for forgetting about that. One small mistake and the entire plan could go up in smoke. Thankfully Harry had had the sense to realize the importance of keeping things quiet.

"Here let me show you how to do that", said Sirius, pulling out his wand. "You need to _call_ your memories back to you. Since your magic is infused in those memories, they will recognize your signature through your wand and cling to it. Then you can easily put them back in your head" Sirius explained as he demonstrated with his own memories.

Harry observed the way he was doing it and then carefully repeated his actions, giving a triumphant smile when he got it right the first time. "Well done, Harry." Sirius grinned back at him, relieved that Harry was not dwelling too much on all the revelations he had made last night, but was instead focusing on how to best make use of the situation.

"We've probably missed breakfast. Molly usually serves it by nine. But I'm sure we can whip up something ourselves" Sirius said, as they headed down to the kitchen.

When they got there, they found everyone in tizzy. Or more specifically, Molly was raving about something, and everyone present was trying to block her out. When she spotted the two of them, she rounded on Harry, hands on her hips.

"Where have you been?" she screeched. "Ron says you never went to bed last night. You certainly weren't there when I went to wake the two of you up this morning."

Harry looked thoroughly startled, before his expression changed to polite bafflement. It looked like he was remembering the memories Sirius had shown him last night, and was trying to hide his anger behind a mask. "I was asleep, Mrs. Weasley. I slept in my room."

Then skipping past her, he turned to Sirius, and asked as if nothing was wrong, "Sirius what do you want for breakfast?"

"I think we have eggs, somewhere here. We could make omelets." He said, opening the cabinets and peering in.

"Okay" answered Harry, pulling out a pan, and placing it on the stove. "Can you light it?" he asked. Sirius prodded his wand below the pan, and then went back to looking for the eggs. "Here we are!" exclaimed Sirius, and handed over the eggs to Harry.

Molly, meanwhile, was spluttering at being ignored so thoroughly by _Harry Potter_ no less. She was obviously used to people trying to placate her when she went on one of her rants.

"What do you mean _your _room?" Ron piped up.

"Exactly that. I've got my own room" said Harry, as he added a dollop of butter onto the pan.

"But Harry dear. I told you that you were going to stay in Ron's room." Molly was looking as surprised as Ron at Harry's declaration.

Harry shrugged but didn't turn around to answer. "Sirius had already set up a room for me."

Sirius noticed Molly's eyes narrowing and quickly went to help Harry. He deftly cracked an egg on the side of a bowl and poured the contents in. He caught Harry's surprised and impressed look, and sheepishly said, "This is the only thing I know how to make."

"Sirius, you know very well that Harry always stays with Ron. Why are you trying to separate them?" Molly had now decided that this was Sirius' fault.

Both Harry and Sirius scowled darkly. Harry because he was now absolutely sure about the authenticity of the pensieve memories he had seen last night, and Sirius – well, because he was absolutely fed up of Molly by now. But since their backs were facing everyone else, no one could see their expressions.

"What on earth do you mean, Molly?" Sirius decided to play it cool. "Harry is with Ron in school for most of the year."

"I'm not talking about then, I'm talking about now!" Molly snapped, and Sirius could almost picture her stamping her foot as she said that.

At her words, Harry turned around and gave Molly an incredulous look, like he couldn't believe how immaturely she was acting. She became extremely flustered at that, and decided to try a different tactic.

"Harry dear, why don't you tell me where your things are, and I'll move them to Ron's room."

Harry carefully poured the mixture onto the hot pan, and stated unequivocally, "I'm quite happy with my room Mrs. Weasley."

Molly had to shut up at that, but Sirius knew that this wasn't the end of it. Hermione, meanwhile was observing everything carefully. Sirius knew she could be a problem. She was interfering _and _smart. Not a good combination, from Sirius' and Harry's point of view.

The kitchen was silent, while Harry and Sirius finished making their breakfast. Harry placed an omelet on each of their plates, and they sat at one end of the table. Sirius wondered if Harry had decided what to do about his friends yet.

Harry quietly spoke up, after the first few bites. "I've got all my homework left. I didn't even manage to get started while at the Dursley's." Sirius knew, that while the sentence was directed at him, Harry actually meant for the rest of the table to hear this. It gave him a perfect excuse to stay put in his room, over the next few days.

"Harry!" Hermione looked completely scandalized. "You're as bad as Ron. How can you leave your homework till the last minute?"

Harry gave her a cold look. "It's easy when you're spending every minute of your day doing chores for the Dursleys"

Hermione looked thoroughly chastised, but the adults looked disbelieving. Sirius realized he had been right when he had come to the conclusion that none of the adults really knew the extent of the abuse Harry went through at the Dursleys. He was happy to note that the kids were a bit more perceptive.

"Well I'll be in my room if you need any help with that." said Sirius.

Harry nodded and smiled at him. Sirius looked around and noticed Remus was in the kitchen, as was Tonks.

His friend couldn't be that dense could he? He _must_ have seen through her little crush. After all, she couldn't get more obvious, thought Sirius, amused at his baby cousin's antics. She kept flipping her hair over her shoulder, and touching his arm every now and then. Remus would politely smile at her whenever she did that, but that only served to encourage her further. Sirius was dying to tease her, but settled for giving Tonks knowing looks.

"Pass me the paper, please" Harry suddenly asked Remus.

Remus handed it to him and Harry carefully went through it while eating.

"No news of the attack" He told Sirius. 'I'm guessing that the Ministry doesn't want it known that there are a set of rogue Dementors out on the loose."

"Have you been reading the papers Harry?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah mate, there's all sorts of rubbish about you in there" Ron supplied helpfully.

"Ron!" Hermione smacked his arm. "We have to break the news to him gently."

The atmosphere instantly grew tense. Everyone was looking at Harry, worried about his reaction. Harry, for his part, continued eating calmly, and asked, "What news is that?"

So that was how he was playing it out, thought Sirius. He was trying to hide the fact that he and Sirius had already discussed this.

"Harry, dear…", Molly began, a bit uncertainly as she desperately looked around the table, hoping that someone else would do the needful. No one appeared to be coming to the rescue.

Harry stopped eating, and raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

The tension grew another notch.

"The Ministry is using the Prophet to bitch about you in the press!" shrieked Tonks suddenly.

Everyone jumped at the sudden outburst. That broke the atmosphere. Everybody started talking at once - some like Ron were trying to pacify Harry ("It's not _that bad, _mate! Okay maybe the part where they called you pretentious big-headed attention-seeking liar…) and others like Molly were berating Tonks for a) spilling the beans so suddenly, and b) using foul language.

In the midst of this, Harry gave Sirius a quick unnoticeable wink. He cleared his throat loudly.

Silence immediately descended, and heads swiveled in his direction. "Was that all?" asked Harry. Looking at all the stunned faces, Harry couldn't help but chuckle. "Look, I already knew about the slander, okay? I _do_ get the Daily Prophet."

There was a ripple of embarrassed laughter, and everyone went back to whatever they were doing. A few moments later, Hermione spoke up. "Harry, are you okay?"

Seeing his questioning look, she continued, "I mean you were witness to You-know-who's return. You saw it happen, and then you're seeing all these articles making you out to be liar … " she trailed off and shook her head.

Sirius could see a flash of guilt in Harry's eyes.

Hermione added, in a soft voice, "I just worry that you're bottling everything up. It's not healthy. I've read about this. It's called survivor's guilt. You're feeling guilty that you survived and Cedric didn't." At Cedric's name, Harry grew tense, his lips were pressed in a thin line and Sirius could see that his hand had grown white from clutching his fork tightly.

"Just take it easy for now okay? Dumbledore wants us to stay quiet until Voldemort reveals himself to the world. I know it's difficult, but it's for the best."

Harry was trembling with suppressed emotion, and he couldn't afford to have another accidental outburst of magic. Sirius decided to run interference now so that Harry could get his emotions under control.

"Hermione, what do you know about Fudge's history?" he interrupted.

Hermione looked at bit surprised at the sudden question. "His history?"

"It would be useful if you find out everything you can about his ­past. When the time is right, Dumbledore could use the information you find to convince the public that Fudge is hiding the truth." Sirius elaborated.

Hermione's eyes immediately lit up at the thought of a challenging project. Sirius could practically see the gears turning in her head, as she mentally went through all the books that could be useful.

At least a potential outburst from Harry had been avoided. Harry was now eating quickly, in a bid to escape the room as soon as possible. Sirius quickly gobbled down the last few bites, and left the room before Harry.

Ten minutes later they were both in Harry's _real _room, standing in front of a large whiteboard. Harry was pacing back and forth. "I know she means well, Sirius." he said, running his hands through his hair in frustration. "But I've decided that I don't want them involved any more. Ron and Hermione have always joined me on all of my silly escapades. Maybe they went along with me out of some sense of adventure, or maybe it _was _loyalty. But now that Voldemort is back, the threat is very much real. I'd rather they stay angry with me for ignoring them if it keeps them safe."

Sirius watched Harry with concern. "Look Harry. As far as the war is concerned, it's their choice. If they want to get involved you can't stop them. The war isn't between you and Voldemort. It's between freedom and oppression. And you have no right to stop them from fighting for their side if they choose to do so."

Harry didn't look happy at Sirius' declaration, but he seemed to have understood the message. "Still, I've decided that I'm not going to tell them about Dumbledore. I don't know which side they'll choose, and at this point I'd rather concentrate on my training than worry about someone stabbing me in the back."

Sirius nodded and turned to the board. Using a marker he carefully started to make a list of everything they needed to do and everything they wanted to do. Soon the needed to do list included:

Prepare for trial

Select subjects

Outline a timetable

Dueling training

Occlumency training

"I'm also going to give you the training every Family Heir needs." Sirius said, as he jotted down point six.

"What does that include?" a curious Harry asked.

"Stuff like proper etiquette, learning about various hierarchies, handling finances…Generally it also involves learning multiple languages, important rituals and bonds, and family magic." Said Sirius, frowning thoughtfully at the whiteboard.

"So these are the things I was supposed to be learning while I was growing up at the Dursleys'?" Harry asked.

"Absolutely," said Sirius, turning to look at Harry. "You've inherited a lot of money from your parents, Harry. Of course you need to know how to manage all of it. Besides that, you're the last of the Potters. You have to carry forward the family legacy, and how can you do that if you weren't even taught the simplest wizarding customs?"

Sirius could see Harry digesting all of this, and then straightening up with a look of steely determination in his eyes.

"You're right. I am the last of the Potters." He whispered, as if struck by a revelation.

Sirius gave him a small smile, and added, "And Heir to the Black Family fortune as well."

Harry looked a bit overwhelmed, before giving a nervous chuckle. "It's a good thing I have you to explain all this to me then."

Sirius laughed, and turned to the whiteboard to add point number seven. "Health checkup"

"No please, no! Anything but that!" Harry all but wailed.

"I've already arranged for someone to see you. It won't be like Poppy's checkups." Sirius said firmly. He was sure that Harry was pouting behind his back.

Deciding to cheer him up, Sirius moved on to writing down the things they wanted to do list. Point number one – Maruader hour.

"What's that?" Harry asked, effectively distracted.

"You know that I used to play a few pranks in school…" began Sirius.

"A few?" said Harry sarcastically, obviously remembering the stories Sirius had shared in his letters.

Sirius tried and failed to look innocent. "Well okay, maybe not just a few. The point is we had to come up with many original spells to make these pranks work. I would be failing in my duty as your godfather if I didn't impart this knowledge to you."

Harry suddenly looked much happier.

"So what do _you _want to add to this list?" Sirius asked.

"Is this list for the summer, or for the long term?"

"It's for the long term, but if there is something we can do during the summer then we'll make time for it" answered Sirius.

Harry looked thoughtful. "Well… sometime in the future I'd like to travel a bit. Get to see all those places you described to me in your letters. Traveling would also be a good way to learn some different styles of magic."

Sirius nodded, and wrote down "Travel".

Harry was looking a bit embarrassed. "Uhh…Could we do some normal things like watching a movie or visiting an amusement park? The Dursleys don't take me anywhere."

Sirius' felt the usual surge of anger that always overwhelmed him whenever he thought of Harry's rotten relatives. He didn't say anything, and simply wrote "Family time"

"I'm going to teach you how to ride a bike this summer" Sirius said, writing that idea down.

"Where are you going to get a bike from?" Harry asked.

Sirius suddenly remembered that he had only shown Harry his room and the library. "I haven't shown you the rest of this place." He said, as he tossed the marker aside, and headed for the door.

Harry followed him into the next room. Waving his hand in a dramatic fashion, Sirius proudly announced, "These are the training rooms. They are the largest rooms in the house."

Sirius couldn't help but laugh when he spotted Harry's expression. He was gaping like a fish, eyes bugging out comically.

This room was three times larger than the other rooms. Different weapons were hung on display on one of the walls. The floor was covered with mats of different textures. What looked like an obstacle course was laid out in the far end of the room.

Sirius pressed a panel on the wall. A dueling ring emerged from the floor, in the middle of the room. "This is what I'm going to use to teach you competitive dueling." He pressed the panel again, and the ring sank back into the floor.

Pointing at a small switchboard hanging on the wall, Sirius showed Harry the various switches, each with labels like "Hilly terrain", "Crowded market", and "Deserted village".

"This device is called a holographic projector. It projects realistic scenes and you have to defend yourself from a group of attackers. After all, it's not very likely that Voldemort will challenge you to a formal duel."

"Brilliant" whispered an awe-struck Harry Potter.

Sirius led him to the adjoining exercise room. "I've set up a gym here." He said, showing Harry the equipment he had installed. But Harry wasn't paying attention. He was staring through a glass partition at the indoor swimming pool.

"How…?" he trailed off, looking at Sirius with an astonished expression.

"Magic" answered Sirius.

"Do you know how to swim? Are you going to teach me?" asked Harry, ignoring the sarcastic answer. He was obviously very eager to learn, and Sirius realized that Harry probably never had the opportunity to learn.

"It could be important. We have to add it to the list" said Sirius.

Harry's eyes gained a mischievous spark, and he retorted, "I didn't know you were one of _those_ types of people – those _list_ fanatics."

"Why you…!" Sirius growled and tried to pounce on Harry. But his godson was too quick for him, and escaped out of the room. Sirius turned into Padfoot and chased him up the stairs, until they reached the terrace garden, where he transformed back into human form.

He managed to pin Harry down and then proceeded to tickle him senseless. "Stop it!" Harry laughed breathlessly, trying to bat his hands away. "Take it back then!" demanded Sirius.

"Okay, okay! You're not a list fanatic. Happy?" Harry gasped out.

Sirius stopped his torture and let go. Harry attempted to straighten his hair, glaring at a smirking Sirius.

"Revenge will be mine", said Harry so solemnly that Sirius almost believed him. Almost.

"Pshaw! You're just a wannabe Marauder" Sirius dismissed Harry's statement.

"Don't push your luck," Harry warned.

Sirius decided to take that piece of advice. Lily used to have the same look when she was telling James off. He led his godson to the shed in the corner of the terrace where he had stored his bike. Pulling off the cover, he proudly unveiled his prized possession.

There was a sharp intake of breath from Harry. "I remember this! I used to dream about it all the time at the Dursleys'."

Sirius felt a pang in his heart. Harry had probably dreamt of his journey from Godric's Hollow to Privet Drive.

Time to create new memories, he decided, shaking off his depressing thoughts. He handed a helmet to Harry.

"Ready to take this thing for a ride?" he asked.

Harry's face had one of the goofiest grins he had ever seen.

* * *

**Authors' note: **The "Marauder hour" idea is courtesy nxkris's suggestion in a review.


	9. The trials of learning

_Disclaimer: The Harry Potter series belong to J.K Rowling. _

**Chapter 9 – The trials of learning**

After lunch, Harry curled up on the sofa, reading one of the many ISEM pamphlets Sirius had given him. He had a notebook in his lap, and from time to time he would jot down a few points about some of the more interesting subjects mentioned.

Sirius meanwhile, was working on Harry's case again. So far, he had found several legal precedents which would help Harry's case but it all depended on Fudge didn't it? That bumbling fool was bound to have some kind of plan up his sleeve. Perhaps he wouldn't even bother to listen to Harry's arguments, using his age and authority to prevent Harry from properly defending himself. What Harry needed, was someone who the court respected enough – someone who could make his voice heard.

Well that certainly rules _me_ out, thought Sirius wryly. Maybe he should sic Molly on them? That would teach Fudge a lesson!

Dumbledore was out of the question too. Then again, if Dumbledore needed Harry for some crazy save-the-wizarding-world plan he had concocted, he would definitely do anything to ensure that Harry got off the hook. So for the time being, their interests were aligned. But was it worth taking such a risk?

It was then Sirius remembered the promise he had made himself. He approached Harry, and when Harry looked up, he handed over the notes he had made to him.

Seating himself next to his godson, he briefly explained all the useful laws he had found. Then he continued -

"I promised myself, when I first realized what was happening, that I wouldn't become another Dumbledore in your life – keeping information from you, forcing you to do things my way. So I decided that I would always abide by two rules when it comes to you."

Shifting around in a bid to get more comfortable, he then continued, "The first is, that as far as possible I'm never going to hide any information that relates to you. The only time I will keep information from you, is if I have sworn an oath to keep it confidential, if I have to wait for somebody's permission to tell you something (because it's their secret) or if I need you to be proficient at Occlumency so that I can be sure that the information is safe."

Harry looked relieved. Sirius was glad he had decided to give Harry this assurance.

"The second rule is that I will always give you a choice, unless I'm completely convinced that you are in danger. In that case, I hope you will understand if I act first and explain things later."

Gesturing at the sheaf of papers, he added, "Which brings me back to your trial. I've been thinking about it. As far as the law is concerned, this is an open-and-shut case. But you and I both know that this is just part of the slandering campaign Fudge is running against you. Just showing up at the trial and trying to defend yourself, on the basis of these laws is not likely to work."

"So what do we do?" asked Harry. "Can we hire a lawyer?"

"That was one of my suggestions. As far as I can see, there are three ways of going about this. One – you just mentioned, getting a lawyer to defend you. The problem is that it will definitely catch Dumbledore's attention. He's used to having everyone look up to him to solve their problems, and if you find yourself a lawyer, he's going to worry that you're getting too independent. We can't afford his close scrutiny yet."

Harry was frowning at that. "I'm going to be tried for underage magic. The first thing anyone would do in this situation is hire a lawyer. Why would it make him suspicious?"

"It is unusual in the wizarding world. Most wizards defend themselves in court. It's only the wealthy aristocrats that hire lawyers to do their work." Sirius explained.

"Oh. Can't we pass it off as my ignorance of the way this world works?" asked Harry.

Sirius thought about it. "It could work. But there's still the question of how you were able to find a lawyer."

"Okay, we'll try to work around that problem. What were the other options?"

"Well, this next one is not my favorite. It involves leaving Dumbledore to take care of the problem for you." Sirius paused to watch Harry's expression.

Harry raised his eyebrow. "I can see why you don't like it. It's risky, because we don't know what he's planning. On the other hand, if he does manage to swing the judgment my way, we can stay under the radar longer."

Must be a muggle phrase, thought Sirius. He vaguely recollected that the word "radar" related to some Muggle technology.

Harry looked like he was deep in thought for a moment. "Sirius, how long do we have to hide like this? Are we working towards some kind of goal?"

Ah, the crucial question, thought Sirius.

"Harry this is where I tell you that there is some information that I want to share with you, but can't do so yet. I need you to be able to protect this secret relying on your own Occlumency barriers rather than this ring. Till then, let me tell you whatever I can."

He stood up and began to pace, wondering exactly how much he could reveal. "Basically, the truth is that I've got some help in this situation. There are some really powerful people I know, who can help us escape Dumbledore's clutches. But their influence in Britain is restricted, so until we can get to them, any help from their side will be limited."

Harry was watching him warily. "Are you sure that these people are trustworthy? This shouldn't be a case of jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire."

Sirius understood Harry concerns, especially in the light of the limited information he was sharing with him.

"I knew them before my imprisonment. I even visited them for a while, before the Tournament began. I believe that they can be trusted."

Harry didn't look too happy. "You _will_ tell me everything as soon as you can, right?"

"I will," promised Sirius.

Harry gave him a scrutinizing look, trying to judge the sincerity of his words. Apparently satisfied, he leaned back, waiting for Sirius to continue.

"The plan I have come up with so far, involves you staying at Hogwarts for this coming year. Concentrate on your training and ISEM preparation, and generally lie low. The Ministry is probably going to be watching you closely, and because of that there is a chance that Dumbledore will be doing the same. By the end of the year, we should be able to figure out what Dumbledore's plan is. Then we'll leave the country and get you some real training and protection."

"Are those people you mentioned earlier the ones who'll be giving us the training and protection?" asked Harry.

"Yes they are. Trust me when I say - they are very _very_ good at that" answered Sirius, remembering the training he had received from them when he was younger.

"You'd better teach me Occlumency soon," Harry grumbled before continuing, "So what was the last option you were considering?"

"_This_ plan is worthy of a Marauder. Do you know who the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement is?"

Harry shook his head in the negative.

"Currently, it's Amelia Bones," Sirius answered his own question. "Everything I know and have heard about her indicates that she's very good at her job, and that she's fair and honest in her dealings. She doesn't sway under political pressure, and even Fudge knows better than to try and sideline her."

Sirius gave Harry a small smile. "The best part is that she's pretty suspicious of Dumbledore. I think she knows exactly what he's capable of, and is biding her time until she can catch him doing something he has no way of getting out of. Dumbledore probably knows this too, because he goes out of his way to avoid her."

"There is a Susan Bones in my year," said Harry.

"Probably her niece. You can check her family tree to confirm that if you want. There's a huge book in the library on wizarding genealogy."

Harry nodded. "Do you think she can help us?"

Sirius gave one of his patented Marauder grins again. "Let's say, hypothetically of course, that the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement decides to call you in to confirm the charges against you. Being the law abiding citizen that you are, you cooperate fully. Which means that you decide to share your memories with her, so that she can see the attack by the Dementors for herself. Not wanting to be accused of hiding information, you even share memories of Voldemort's return. After all, this is crucial information that is important for our law enforcement officials to know."

Harry was smirking at the way Sirius enacting the whole situation.

"As expected, our dear Madam Bones is furious at the cover up. She knows that if she directly confronts Fudge, nothing will come out of it. So, after a bit of subtle maneuvering from your side, she decides that public exposure is the only way to go. The best place to do that? Your upcoming trial."

Harry's eyes lit up at the sheer deviousness of Madam Bones' supposed actions.

Buffing his nails against his shirt, Sirius continued, "Now your brilliant godfather, through the use of his contacts, manages to get a horde of international press reporters to attend the trial."

Sirius face took on a faux-sympathetic expression. "Poor Fudge has never had to deal directly with the international press. After all, they generally found nothing worth reporting in Britain after the first war ended. The few times that did decide to print something, Fudge had Dumbledore take care of it. But this time?" Sirius paused dramatically, "This time there's no Dumbledore to hide behind. And so it happens that a horde of reporters arrive just in time to see the tragic self implosion of the British Minister of Magic."

Harry burst out laughing as Sirius sobbed theatrically, clutching a conjured handkerchief in his hands.

"Hypothetically, this situation would definitely take care of my problem," said Harry, after he managed to control his laughter. "But how are we going to get Madam Bones to call me in?"

"You write her a self-destructing letter," answered Sirius. Pulling out a piece of parchment, he handed Harry a quill, and started to dictate a letter.

'Dear Madam Bones,

I have received a notice from the Improper Use of Magic office, requesting my attendance at a disciplinary hearing on the twelfth of August for the use of underage magic. Said magic was performed on the second of August, near my residence while defending my cousin and myself against rogue dementors.

As my cousin and his family are aware of the existence of magic, under Clause 4, Section VI of the Special Education Provisions Act of 1954, no violation has occurred. Therefore, I am confident that the disciplinary hearing is merely a formal process to ascertain the facts.

However, the more pressing matter is the presence of rogue dementors in a Muggle neighborhood. As it is a well-documented fact that the only area where dementors are free to roam is Azkaban, I believe that this case would fall under the purview of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

For reasons of security, I would like to meet you personally to hand over evidence of the incident. The blank parchment I have sent with this letter can be used to communicate with me. Kindly let me know through the parchment, the time and the secure location where we could meet. I request that this meeting be kept confidential, for reasons that are best discussed in person.

Yours sincerely,

Lord Potter'

"Lord Potter?" Harry's hand froze at the last line, quill hovering over the parchment.

Sirius turned towards Harry, a grim expression on his face. "Let me guess. No one told you?"

Harry shook his head with a frown marring his face.

Sirius sighed in exasperation, running his hand through his hair. "Should have expected this. After everything we've figured out, this one shouldn't have been such a surprise," he muttered.

He sat down in front of Harry, and wrapped his arms around his knees. "Okay, the simple version is you are the last of the Potters. Therefore the title was supposed to automatically go to you."

Sirius cast his gaze to the floor and continued, "You were only a year old, when you inherited the Potter title. Naturally, you couldn't be expected to manage your estate or fulfill any Family obligations. The title was to be held by your guardian until you were eleven. But since I was in prison, the title was held in suspension."

He looked up at Harry as he suddenly realized something. "But I checked up your account in France. It listed you as Lord Potter."

"Who would have known about this?" asked Harry, clutching the quill in his hand tightly.

"Anyone who was raised magically should know about this. It's common knowledge that children can inherit Lordship at the age of eleven."

"Dumbledore never told me. Hagrid only handed me a key, and told me that I had an account. That was the extent of my preparation." Harry was starting to get angry.

"I don't get it." Sirius was frowning thoughtfully. "How did Dumbledore have your key? The goblins are very particular about allowing only authorized family members access to the accounts."

Harry expression morphed into a puzzled look. "Maybe my dad gave it to him at the same time he handed over his invisibility cloak for safekeeping?"

Stunned, Sirius blurted out, "James hand over his invisibility cloak? He would never do that! Why would he hand over a potential means of escape to _anyone_ when he knew that Voldemort was after him?"

They both sat quietly after that, trying to figure out the situation. Finally, Harry spoke up, "The only thing that's clear in this mess is that Dumbledore had something to do with it."

Sirius nodded and stood, stretching his arms above his head. "Well that means you need to write another letter." At Harry's questioning look, he added, "To Gringotts. You need to ask for details of all accounts in your name."

Harry quickly finished the second letter and placed it aside.

"Bring Hedwig here later. I want to check if she's got any tracking charms on her" Sirius said as he sat next to Harry and took the notebook from his hand.

"So what subjects have you short-listed?" he asked, peering at the list Harry had made so far.

"They all look interesting, but I have to choose those that will be useful to me in the future right?" answered Harry.

"Naturally. What are career are you planning on?" Sirius asked.

Harry sighed and slumped against the backrest. "I _was _planning on becoming an Auror. But now that I think back on it, I was only interested because it seemed, kind of …" he trailed off.

"Cool?" Sirius completed his sentence.

Harry shrugged his shoulders by way of reply. "It just seems that it's what everyone expects of me."

Expectations. Sirius understood that word very well. His family had expected him to embrace the dark side of magic. Teachers and students alike had expected him to be sorted in Slytherin like the rest of his family. The public had simply assumed that since he was a Black he had definitely betrayed the Potters.

Yes, Harry _was _a public figure, no matter how much he despised it. But that didn't mean that he had to live his life the way the public expected him to.

"You're the Boy-who-lived, Harry. Savior of the wizarding world and all that nonsense. How can anyone tell you how to lead your life? Face it - anything _you_ like the public will instantly find glamorous and appealing. If you want to be a herbologist, do it! And be proud of it. You can _make_ it cool."

Harry gave a Sirius a small smile at that, and Sirius mentally congratulated himself on passing his first parenting test with flying colors.

"You and Dad were aurors weren't you?" asked Harry.

"Yes," confirmed Sirius.

"Did you enjoy it?"

Sirius thought about it. "We chose that path during the height of the first war. At that time, it seemed like the right thing to do. Serve your country, and protect innocents."

His demeanor changed as he remembered what were the best years of his life. "They had an accelerated program then, because they were falling short of aurors. The normal two year course was squeezed into a six month program. It was intense and grueling and we loved every minute of it."

Sirius turned to look at Harry, who was hanging on to every word. "And then – we were thrown directly into the conflict. Suddenly it wasn't that simple. Innocent people depend on you. One wrong move, and the blood that's spilled will haunt you forever."

His eyes darkened in memory. "We had to learn on the job. People assume that aurors lead glamorous lives. They couldn't be further from the truth. Everyday we had to go out there and risk our lives. I dreaded the thought of anything happening to James. Your Mum was carrying you at that time…"

He sharply shook himself out of that memory. For a moment there he almost felt that he _was_ back in time.

He noticed Harry was watching him with concern. He gave a short, half-hearted laugh. "Basically I'm saying that it's not all it's made out to be".

Looking at the pamphlets he continued, "But taking DADA related courses isn't reserved for those aiming to become aurors. And for someone in your position it's definitely important. So I'm glad you added Combat Magic to your list."

"I also put in Healing," pointed out Harry. "Figured it'd be useful" he muttered.

"Excellent," said Sirius. "The syllabus covers mind and body healing. Basic potions and spells related to the science of healing. A study of magical channels and their differences in different magical beings," he read out.

"Level 1 Healing should cover everything you need. Unless you plan to be a healer?" asked Sirius, looking at Harry.

Harry shook his head. "I don't think I have the aptitude for it."

"Okay. What else? Protective magic. Hmmm" Sirius quickly read through the description of the course. "This requires a basic understanding of Ancient Runes. The syllabus mainly covers warding of buildings and the like, but also deals with personal protection such as amulets and potions."

"It sounded interesting," Harry said a bit unsurely, as though waiting for Sirius' approval.

"It is. The Marauders learnt a bit of the basics" said Sirius, casting his mind back to some of their better pranks.

Harry was smiling, obviously realizing what Sirius meant when he referred to the Marauders' educational forays. He gestured towards the notebook, and said, "I put in Magical History and Culture as well. The course covers different magical beings and the formation of magical society. I'm hoping that with all the resources you've provided, this subject won't be as boring as Binns' classes."

"I've sneaked a peak at least one lecture for each of the subjects, and from what I've seen you're definitely going to enjoy this class. I wish I could have taught you this subject myself when you were younger. It will help you understand our world better." Sirius assured his godson.

He quickly went through the rest of the list. "That leaves Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions. Did you see the small potions lab I created next to the training rooms? It's got a decent stock of ingredients for basic potions. In any case, it wouldn't be safe to brew anything more complicated in there."

"That's good enough. I'm not aiming to become a potion master," Harry said, while grimacing at the thought of being even remotely like Snape. He continued, "In any case, it's probably the only form of magic I'll be able to perform in the holidays."

"That's not true," said Sirius. "I've got a bunch of training wands lying around, that you can use to practice. Any magic you do here through them won't be picked up by the Ministry."

"Training wands? I thought that every wizard can only use one wand." Harry asked curiously.

Sirius shook his head in exasperation. "Harry, you saw the Theory of Magic lecture. There are different ways of conducting your magic; wands are just one of them. Did you really believe that sales pitch Ollivander fed you? Do you think that it was just a coincidence that your perfect match just happened to be lying in his shop?"

Harry looked surprised at that. Sirius continued, "Your core resonates with different wands differently. That's why you had different reactions with each of them. It just so happened that the out of all of the wands you tried, the one you currently possess gave you the best reaction. If your wand were to accidentally snap, you could find a replacement wand anywhere in the world. It could be one with a different core, and it might even work better for you than your original. Don't believe that rubbish about there being only one wand for every wizard."

He walked up to the table and pulled open a drawer. Taking out a large box, he placed it on the table. "These are generic wands. You identify a wood and core, put it together, and it's ready to use. It's good for general magic, but if you're doing magic that requires a precise degree of control, you're better off using your original wand."

As Harry peered over his shoulder, he opened the box, revealing a separate set of woods and cores. He gestured towards both. 'Run your hand over the wood," he instructed, watching as Harry did so, with his eyes closed. "Which one calls to you?"

Harry did as he asked, and his eyes immediately snapped open as his hand passed over a sturdy looking one. Sirius handed it to Harry, reading the label. "Oak wood"

Harry repeated the procedure for the cores. This time he chose thunderbird feather.

Sirius melded the wood and the core together using a simple spell and handed the newly made generic wand to his godson.

Harry swished it, and nothing happened. "No sparks?" he asked, clearly surprised.

"Can you feel a connection with it?" Sirius asked, and when Harry nodded, continued, "Sparks are only for beginners. Once you've practiced magic for a couple of years, you don't need the physical proof of the connection."

"So it's safe to practice magic now?" Harry asked, with an eager look on his face.

Sirius merely grinned back at him. Harry laughed and waved his wand, murmuring a spell quietly.

The next moment, Sirius found himself dancing the quick-step, cursing his godson who had fled to the safety of his room.

* * *

**Authors' notes: **(1) AlixMM deserves special mention for providing suggestions on Harry's vault key.

(2) Yes, you'll be finding out more about Sirius' "contacts" in a later chapter.

(3) It's probably safe for Harry to do magic using his phoenix wand, since the house is under a Fidelus. But he can't afford to do so, in case they cast a Priori Incantatem on his wand during the trial.

(4) As per the HP Lexicon, Harry is attacked by Dementors on the 2nd of August. He reaches Grimmauld Place on the sixth. He and Sirius spend the whole night talking about Dumbledore's manipulations. In Chapter 8, 9 and 10, it's still the 7th of August. Admittedly, there's a lot of catching up for Harry to do. Once the trial is over, the pace of the story quickens, and other characters get involved.

(5) Thank you for all your reviews! Your reviews totally make my day.


	10. Inheriting a legacy

**Chapter 10: Inheriting a legacy**

Sirius, watched as Harry pulled out the paintings of the teachers whose subjects he was taking. He had conjured a bunch of easels for the paintings, and Harry was placing one painting on each easel. Opening each book, he briefly introduced himself to the professors and explained his situation to them.

They quickly understood his predicament, and more than a few had some choice comments to make against Dumbledore and the deteriorating quality of Hogwart's education.

"Be that as it may," Laura Mendez, Harry's Potions professor finally interrupted, "All this discussion is getting us nowhere. I presume that the reason Harry wanted to speak to us was to chalk up his new schedule?"

"That's right Professor. I've got less than a month left before I return to Hogwarts. Once there, I can't let anyone know that I'm considering other educational opportunities. So any studying will have to be done at night."

The professors started muttering to themselves, trying to figure out how best to tackle the problem.

It was Valentino Marino the professor of Magical History and Culture who figured out a solution. The young thirty-something man, had a way with words. He could describe entire places and cultures so vividly that the listener could practically picture the scene in front of his eyes.

"You need to buy some energy crystals. They are a bit expensive, but if you can afford them then they're the solution to your problem.

Sirius and Harry both looked at each other confused. "Energy crystals?" Sirius asked, entering into the conversation.

"As the name suggests, they're crystals that store energy. Imagine siphoning off the bit of the energy required to fill a crystal, from a creature as large as a dragon. Taking less than a tenth of their energy fills nearly a hundred crystals. One crystal can give you enough energy to work straight through without sleep for a week." Marino explained.

"They sound like just what we need. But forcibly taking energy from creatures …," Harry trailed off uncertainly.

"Oh don't worry about that. The process doesn't cause them the least bit of discomfort. Besides they have to be willing participants in the ritual. Therefore only higher animal forms like dragons can be used. Their energy can't be taken against their will." Marino was quick to assure them.

"Okay, sounds good. Put it on the list Sirius," Harry said, smirking at Sirius.

Sirius gave him a half-hearted glare and then pretended to ignore him for the rest of the conversation.

The energy crystals would certainly help them surmount the problem of lack of time. They spent a few more minutes discussing other ways Harry could continue his preparations at Hogwarts.

Then the topic moved on to figuring out the schedule. Between the twelve of them (ten professors, Harry and Sirius), they managed to thrash out a working plan.

The day would start at half past five, with Sirius teaching Harry Occlumency for an hour. Then the two of them would hit the gym till half past seven, followed by swimming lessons for half an hour.

By eight-fifteen the two of them would get started on making breakfast. By the time they finished eating it would probably be nine, so anyone strolling into the kitchen would notice that Harry was done with breakfast, and wouldn't be joining them.

Each lesson was planned for an hour and a half – the lecture for an hour, and discussions with the professors to clear doubts or set reading assignments, for thirty minutes.

Considering that Harry's friends might choose to stop by Harry's room after their breakfast, it was decided that Harry would then do his Hogwarts homework in his decoy room. He would work on it for an hour after the first lesson ended at ten thirty. He would then have his second lesson till one.

After lunch, Sirius would spend an hour each giving Harry the training he required as a Family Heir, and second generation Marauder. They would then spend an hour in the training rooms, either practicing dueling, combat or sword-fighting (though the last one was not very necessary, Sirius figured it would help him build his stamina).

After his third lesson, Harry would take a break for half-an-hour, where he could do anything he wanted – reading, listening to music, catching up with his friends or fine-tuning his pranking skills.

Then it was time for his fourth and final lesson of the day. Once that was done, they would head down for dinner. After his second Occlumency lesson, Harry had to finish his assignments and read ahead for the next day's lessons.

Sirius had expected Harry to look overwhelmed when he realized the amount of hard work he was expected to put in. But Harry was actually looking eager to begin. He felt a twinge of pride at his godson's strong-minded determination.

They both looked up at the sound of tapping. Spotting the owl, Sirius hurried to the window and let it in. "Looks like your Gringott's reply is here," he said, unfastening the package from the owl.

Harry took the thick cover from him, pressed the security seal and quickly opened it. Finding rolls of parchments in it, he carefully took them out and placed them on the nearest table. Sirius sat down next to him, as Harry read through the cover letter.

"They've provided my complete account details, as well as a few forms that I need to sign."

"May I?" Sirius asked, not wanting to look at the account details unless Harry gave him permission to do so.

Harry nodded and pushed the parchments towards him. "Please. I have no idea where to begin."

They spent the next hour poring over the parchments. One set was filled with details of all the vaults in Harry's possession, as well as those he had a claim to. The Black Family vault was no surprise. But the others were.

"Why am I listed as a potential claimant to the Waldegrave fortune? And how did I inherit the Allington vault?" Harry asked.

"These two families have no direct heirs. You must be distantly related to both, and therefore have a right of claim when the head of the family dies." Sirius answered. "Why don't you find that wizarding genealogy book I mentioned."

Harry was back in less than two minutes, carrying a huge volume of _Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genalogy_ in his hands. Sirius flipped open the book to the first page and wrote "Harry Potter." A list of families appeared below his words including Potter, Black and Waldegrave.

"Not Allington?" Sirius was puzzled. Nevertheless, he tapped his wand on the Waldegrave family.

The pages of the book began to turn until it reached the Waldegrave family tree. Harry and Sirius both bent their heads over the book trying to find the relation.

"There", Harry pointed after a few minutes.

"Related through your great-grandmother's side," observed Sirius.

"What about Allington?" asked Harry.

Sirius turned back to the Gringotts parchments and read through them closely. After a few minutes, he burst out laughing.

"Some crazy old bat bequeathed her fortune to you, right after the fall of Voldemort" said Sirius.

Harry made a face. "I don't want that! She's made Boy-who-lived her heir, not plain old Harry."

"Well, like it or not, your stuck with it", noted Sirius. "Since you had the strongest claim on the vault, the others have not bothered to contest it. Why is the name Allington so familiar?" Sirius wondered aloud.

A quick search on the Magi-Web revealed the answer. "Elizabeth Allington is the best known for bringing the Wizarding radio to Britain. She is the owner of Wizarding Wireless Network, Britain's only radio station."

"This is brilliant!" Sirius was ecstatic. "Harry, sign the forms claiming ownership, immediately."

"Hold on," Harry was more than a little surprised at his exuberance. "Why are you so excited about this?"

Sirius looked up at him and realized that the significance was completely lost to Harry. "Harry, you've seen for yourself how close-minded the wizarding folks here are about anything Muggle-related. They fail to understand how much their own lives would improve if they'd embraced Muggle technology.

Professor Marino interrupted. "This mindset didn't always exist. It was only after Grindelwald's defeat that the anti-Muggle sentiment began to creep in. His war coincided with the Muggle world war and a lot of wizards lost their lives in the conflict. Several countries in Europe decided to isolate themselves further from the Muggles, in a bid to protect themselves from their weapons."

Noticing that both Harry and Sirius were paying close attention to his words, he continued, "But as time went by, many of these countries began to realize the potential benefits of merging Muggle technology with magic. They saw the advances countries such as Japan made in this field, as they put behind the horror of the Muggle war."

Sirius spoke up, "That explains all the techno-magic devices I saw during my travels. But why is Britain lagging behind?"

"Purebloods," said Professor Marino. "The very idea of incorporating anything Muggle in their daily lives repulses them."

"Hang on," said Sirius, frowning. "The concept of purebloods still exists in several countries in Europe."

"Yes, but those countries don't have a man like Dumbledore ruling over them"

Silence followed that proclamation.

"Dumbledore is pro-Muggle," pointed out Harry.

"What makes you say that?" asked Professor Marino, with an air of genuine curiosity.

"He's fought against Voldemort! Everyone knows what _his _beliefs are."

Professor Marino was shaking his head. "He may not like the man or his methods, but that doesn't say anything about his beliefs."

Harry struggled to come up with a suitable reply. "Well, … he doesn't like Malfoy and he's the epitome of pureblood arrogance."

"Once again, that doesn't tell us anything about his beliefs," Sirius said, as he considered the Marino's words.

Frustrated, Harry blurted out, "He likes lemon drops!"

All the portraits burst out laughing, and a red-faced Harry looked like he wanted to sink into the ground and disappear.

"Anyway, what does Dumbledore have to do with the current situation?" asked Sirius, trying to draw the attention away from his embarrassed godson.

"He's completely isolated Britain from the rest of the Magical world. If witches and wizards here could see all the advances their counterparts in other countries have made, then they would be more accepting of Muggle technology," explained Marino.

"How has he isolated Britain?" Harry asked a bit timidly.

"He's passed several laws restricting travel in and out of Britain. The British magical community has no access to international news. There are limited avenues for magical folk to interact with Muggles, and hence the Grindelwald era mindset is still firmly in place. He has made no effort to include the latest curriculum in his school, and the Muggle studies syllabus is a joke." Marino paused to take a breath. "Need I go on?"

"No I think we get the picture" said Sirius. "Besides, we've gotten side-tracked. As I was saying, there _was_ a time when British magical society was more accepting of technology. Allington introduced the WWN before the war against Grindelwald. It was instantly a huge hit. Witches and wizards thoroughly enjoyed the entertainment it provided, and once the war broke out, it was also used to communicate news and warnings to the public. Then the war was over, and slowly a change of attitude took place."

"Thanks to Dumbledore," muttered Harry. "He indirectly helped cement the purebloods position in society as the bastion of power and wealth. Any form of innovation or spirit of entrepreneurship quickly wilted in such an environment"

"Exactly!" Sirius said, surprised at Harry's perceptiveness. "But by then the WWN was an established part of the average wizarding family's life. Most of them now believe that the WWN is a wizarding concept and refuse to accept that it was actually a Muggle invention."

"So the reason for your excitement was…?" prompted Harry.

"Fudge and his minions are controlling the most widely distributed newspaper in magical Britain. They are using the paper to spread all sorts of wrong information and slander about you. But now you have control over the WWN! The most wide-spread media in wizarding Britain. More families get their news via the WWN than the Prophet. When the time is right, you can counter all those allegations made against you in the paper directly to every witch and wizard in the country. This is huge!" explained Sirius, doing a little happy dance in his excitement.

Harry gaped. Then he started laughing.

"That's brilliant! They won't know what hit them."

Still chortling, he headed towards the table and located the correct forms. He pulled out a quill and was about to sign the forms when Sirius stopped him.

"You need a blood quill for that."

As he searched through the Gringotts package for one, he heard Professor Marino explaining the concept of blood quills to Harry.

"If you had to personally gone to Gringotts, then you could have signed the forms using an ordinary quill. Merlin knows, the goblins have enough protections in place to ensure that you are who you say you are. But since _they _have sent the forms to you, you need to sign the forms using a blood quill for verification purposes."

Harry took the blood quill and signed the first form a bit apprehensively. He winced as the letters cut into his hand.

Sirius quickly got Kreacher to fetch a bottle of Murtlap Essence from the potions lab.

Once Harry had finished signing all the forms, Sirius murmured a healing spell to stitch the wound back together, and had Harry soak his hand in the potion to soothe the inflammation.

"Now you know why the use of blood quills for anything other than signing business contracts is illegal."

Harry nodded and rubbed his still sore hand. "Sirius, will the fact that I'm the new owner of the WWN become public knowledge?"

"No," replied Sirius. "In the wizarding world it is possible to keep your investments private. But you need to make sure that you and your business partners sign forms that explicitly state the level of confidentiality you expect."

Since teaching Harry how to manage his investments was one of the things Sirius had planned anyway, they ended up having an impromptu lesson.

Among the rolls of parchments that Gringotts had provided, there were copies of several letters of correspondence between Harry's grandfather Harold Potter and his Gringotts account manager.

Sirius instructed Harry to go through them carefully in order to gain an insight into his grandfather's investment strategy.

Once he was done, Sirius asked him, "What do you think are the parameters you need to look at before investing your money in a business?"

Harry considered the question and replied, "The owners have to have some kind of business plan for the future in place. There should be a need for the product or service that they are selling or at least something different about it."

"Very good," praised Sirius. "What else?"

"Uh…," Harry furrowed his brow in concentration. "I need to know who their competition is and what strategy they plan to use to tackle them."

"That's right. You also need to know what kind of customers they are targeting, how they plan to market their product, who their suppliers will be, and what laws and regulations affect the business. But the most important quality you need to look for is confidence. If the owners have confidence in their idea and ability, they will find a way to make their business a success."

Sirius noticed that Harry was deep in thought. It was only later that he would find out that his godson had already made his first investment!

They continued to examine the documents. When Harry found out the exact amount of money he had inherited, his eyes popped out. "All that time I was living in a cupboard, I could have bought every house in Surrey and still have had more to spare." Spotting Sirius' slightly guilty look, he gave him a half-smile, and said, "One day I'd like to drive by the Dursleys in a limousine, for all the neighbours to see."

Sirius laughed. "I'm sure that can be arranged."

As they continued to pore over the account details, Harry noticed something. "It looks like my grandfather was planning on starting some kind of shopping complex."

"What makes you say that?" asked Sirius curiously.

"Several of his letters mention a plan to establish franchise stores. He's mentioned starting stores for health and nutrition, general potions, furniture, books, jewellery, beauty salons, clothing, sports good, shops offering services for specialized object charming, … the list goes on. It sounds like the basic premise was to offer everything that Diagon Alley does in one mall. The one thing that I've noticed is that many of his letters mention tying up with international companies to offer these goods at lower prices."

"You're grandfather was a very smart businessman," observed Sirius. "It looks like he realized that there was money to be made in selling goods that the British wizarding population has never seen. Sometime in the future, you should see if you can build on his idea."

Harry nodded and glanced at the clock. "Think we should send the letter to Madam Bones now?"

"It's nearly time for dinner. So it's quite probable that she's alone in her office now. Use the official Potter Family seal that Gringotts sent you to seal the letter."

Harry did as he said. Sirius called Kreacher, and handed him Harry's letter to Amelia Bones. With a strict order not to reveal who his master was, he instructed him to hand over the letter to Amelia only when no one else was around.

As Kreacher left, Harry asked, "What's the story behind Kreacher?"

"When I first opened up this house, I found him half-mad, taking crazy orders from my mother's painting. A house-elf derives strength from his master. Since the Black Family had no Head for nearly thirteen years, I was surprised to find him alive." Sirius shook his head ruefully. 'Surprised' was an understatement. He remembered jumping a foot in the air when he had first spotted Kreacher.

"It seems he was drawing strength from the House itself. With all the uncontrolled dark magic in the house, it was no wonder that he was mentally unstable. It took me several cleaning and purifying rituals to get the house in usable condition. Once that was done, he was back to normal in a couple of days."

"He's a very good actor," said Harry, impressed. He had spotted the docile house-elf muttering obscenities at everyone in the house.

Sirius gave him a smug look. "To some extent, a house-elf's personality is also defined by the Master."

Harry gave him a disbelieving look. "That can't be true. Look at Dobby."

Sirius paused to work that one out. "He could be an anomaly. Or he might actually be unconsciously imitating his Master's desire to be free from Voldemort. It's quite possible that Lucius initially became a Death Eater thinking that he would be the one calling the shots. That plan certainly backfired. It's no wonder that he didn't bother looking for his master for all those years."

"That's stretching it," argued Harry.

Sirius shrugged.

Ten minutes later, Kreacher was back. "The letter is delivered, Master."

Sirius thanked Kreacher, and the house-elf bowed deeply before disapparating.

As Sirius and Harry sat in front of the communication parchment, waiting for Madam Bones' reply, Harry spoke up. "So the reason you've made everyone think that you and Kreacher don't get along is so that you don't appear to have any allies?"

"That's right. I needed the Order to think that I'm isolated in every way. Meanwhile, I used Kreacher's help behind their backs to get everything set up here. He's the most reliable way of delivering mails, since a house-elf can never betray the Lord of the Family. In any case I have forbidden him from speaking to anyone else about _anything_ related to the two of us."

Just then the parchment glowed. Sirius and Harry both bent over it, watching as the words began to form on it.

'Tomorrow night. Nine o'clock. Use my private floo – Amelia Bones' office, DMLE, Level 2.'

As Molly's dulcet tones announced that it was time for dinner, Harry hastily scribbled his reply back, accepting the meeting. Then they both looked at each other nervously.

"Well," said Sirius. "Nothing to do now except wait."

* * *

**Authors' note: **Hey everyone, I'm sorry for the delay. I needed to work out a future chapter before I could post this since there was some information that was connected. Anyway, I'm posting two chapters at once in order to make it up to you all. Cheers!


	11. Training Day 1

**Chapter 11: Training Day 1**

Sirius was up at five o'clock. Within fifteen minutes he had put on his workout clothes, and headed to his godson's room. Finding Harry still fast asleep, he quickly put up a silencing ward and then muttered, "Levicorpus".

"What the hell!" Harry yelled out. Spotting Sirius as he hung upside down, he growled out, "Let me down! What's wrong with you?"

Sirius cancelled the charm and his godson landed in a heap on his bed. Struggling out from the bed, he grumbled, "Why did you do that?"

"It's five-fifteen. Your Occlumency lesson starts in less than fifteen minutes. Since this is your first day, I actually bothered to come and wake you. Next time set an alarm charm." Sirius said, in a stern no-nonsense manner.

Harry scowled, but quickly got dressed. He must have realized that it was his trainer, not his godfather who was talking to him.

Sharp at half past five, the two of them were in the training room, seated cross-legged on mats.

"Every Heir is taught both Occlumency and Legilimency from a young age. My father began to teach me when I was four years old. He would tear through my mind repeatedly for a full year, before I was able to muster some form of defense against his attacks." Sirius began dispassionately.

"By the time I was ten, I had a decent set of Occlumency barriers in place. But they couldn't stop my father, if he was in a particularly bad mood. It was around that time, that I decided that I didn't want anything to do with my family. I realized that I simply couldn't be the son they wanted. I knew that one day I would have to break off all ties with them, and I didn't want them to find any weakness that they could exploit. So I worked very _very_ hard at Occlumency, and within a year, my father would never be able to read my thoughts again." Sirius paused watching Harry as he wrung his hands in his lap, listening to every word with a wide-eyed expression.

"When I was sixteen, I ran away to your father's home and never looked back. I then chose to become an Auror. They tested me and found that I had the best Occlumency shields among all the trainees. I was put in charge of helping some of the other rookies. Now, learning something for myself was different from having to actually teach. So I brushed up on the theory and began to coach the others. They _claimed_ that I had done such a good job that I was being given the opportunity to attend some kind of international conference."

Stretching out and resting on his hands behind him, he continued, "It was only later that I realized that the British MoM doesn't take international relations very seriously. All the other attendees were at the very least, Head of an Auror contingent. And there I was, an Auror trainee. Quite insulting to the other countries, as you can imagine. Long story short, I met those people I mentioned earlier, who are helping us. They were impressed that I wasn't the typical British wizard, and I spent some time with them before returning home. Through them I learnt that the Barrier Technique is not the only Occlumency method."

"Barrier Technique?" asked Harry.

"You have to visualize a wall forming a barrier around your mind that protects your thoughts," explained Sirius. "There are two kinds of Occlumency – passive and active. Passive methods simply hide your thoughts, but the active methods seek to attack the intruder."

"So the Barrier technique is a type of passive method," stated Harry.

"Right. The first stage that is usually mastered is a passive method. Once that has been learnt, one can choose to learn diversionary methods, where one has to direct the probe to less important thoughts. What is the advantage of this method?" asked Sirius.

"Umm…the person attacking your mind has no idea that you are aware of the intrusion," Harry replied.

"For the passive version, yes. One of these methods is called the mist method. When an intruder enters your mind, what he can generally see is what appears to be a fine haze or mist. In the passive diversionary method, your important thoughts are cannot be seen through the mist, and he can only sense ordinary every-day thoughts floating around in your mind," explained Sirius.

"But can this method be overcome by a strong legilimens? Asked Harry.

"Yes, but only if you're emotional or in pain. If you get distracted, then your concentration slips and a legilimens can overcome some of your defences. But it's better than the Barrier technique because it's easier to maintain all the time." Sirius paused, looking to see if Harry understood everything so far.

Seeing no sign of confusion, he ploughed on, "You're not going to learn any of these techniques. Instead, I'll be teaching you a method I picked up in Azkaban."

Harry's eyes widened at that. "Is that what helped you stay sane for all those years?" he asked.

Sirius grimaced as sudden flashbacks of his imprisonment overwhelmed his thoughts for a moment. Running his hand through his hair, he sighed and answered, "Yeah it is. All those years of practicing Occlumency were of little help when I was surrounded by Dementors. When people say that Dementors _suck_ out all your happy memories, they're wrong. What they actually do is bring all your negative memories to the fore, so that you're too overwhelmed to remember any happy memories."

Harry shuddered a bit, remembering his own encounters with the foul creatures.

"I eventually developed a way of countering this. I think you'd agree when I say that we're both very emotional people. Our first impulse is to generally think with our heart rather than our mind. Which was why the traditional Occlumency took me ages to learn. You need to calm and stoic throughout, and for a restless person like me, it was nearly impossible to achieve that state of mind."

"What was the technique?" asked Harry.

Sirius bit his lip, trying to find the right words to explain the technique. This was something he had come up with himself, and there was no textbook way of defining the method.

"Do you remember what I told you in the Shrieking Shack. About how I used the fact that I was innocent, to stay sane?"

Harry nodded.

"It was the lifeline I hung onto when I felt myself drowning in despair. This single undeniable fact helped me build up my defences despite the situation. I bundled up all my emotions into a separate identity, and buried it deep within my mind. Every memory, every emotion, my very personality was hidden inside. To the dementors, I must have appeared like a shell, with only normal mundane thoughts appearing to pass through my mind. Since they could not access my feelings, they had no effect on me."

Sirius sat in silence, staring at the floor. This conversation had brought up distinctly unpleasant memories. A moment of silence passed, before Harry stretched out his hand, and curled his fingers around Sirius' wrist in an awkward gesture of comfort. Sirius forced himself to look up and saw the concern in Harry's eyes.

"Hey, I'm over that now."

Harry gave him a small smile and let go, resting his head on his hand.

Sirius cleared his throat. "Anyway, that's the method I'm going to teach you. It took me a long time to develop the technique, but now that I know how it's done, I think you'll be able to pick it up faster."

The next fifteen minutes were spent in meditation. Sirius instructed Harry to remove his ring, close his eyes and concentrate on his breathing. Harry was completely restless, and found it difficult to sit still.

"Harry, think about how you feel when you're flying. The wind blowing through your hair, that feeling of being in control…" Sirius whispered.

Soon, Harry had settled down; his eyes were no longer darting around under his eyelids, his breathing even. After ten minutes of silence, Sirius spoke softly, "I'm going to enter your mind now. I want you to learn how to sense an intrusion."

Eyes still closed, Harry nodded in assent. Sirius slowly entered his godson's mind. Harry's face showed no signs of awareness.

"Can't you feel this?" asked Sirius from inside Harry's mind. He could sense Harry's startled thoughts.

"You're in my mind?" Harry asked aloud.

Sirius cancelled the spell. "Not anymore. Keep you're eyes closed. I'll randomly enter you're mind, and I want you to tell me when you feel my presence."

It took nearly twenty tries before Harry was finally able to detect his presence. "Why is this so hard?" he complained at the end of the session.

"If I had to tear through your mind to find some important information, you would definitely feel my presence. But since Dumbledore will be subtle about it, you need to be prepared for this version as well," answered Sirius, as he rolled the mats to the side of the room.

The next hour was tiring but fun. Sirius showed Harry how to use the equipment he had installed, and then taught Harry a few simple warming up exercises. An hour later, they were splashing about in the swimming pool.

Sirius had made Harry transfigure a pair of swimming trunks for himself, and when his godson was looking the other way, he had silently added a couple of ducks to the design.

Harry had only noticed when he heard a loud quack as he jumped into the pool. The resulting splashing war had left the entire room wet.

A still-grinning Harry Potter and his godfather headed to the kitchen for breakfast. It was there that Sirius learnt that Harry was a very good cook, as he whipped up a traditional meal of eggs, bacon and sausage. They were half-way through their meal when Remus walked in.

"Good morning Harry, Sirius," he greeted, but Sirius could see the slightly surprised look on his face.

"Morning, Professor Lupin," Harry replied, in a casual tone.

As Remus prepared himself a pot of coffee, Arthur and Molly entered the kitchen looking as surprised as Remus to find them there. Molly pursed her lips in disapproval and bustled around the kitchen, preparing breakfast for everyone, as Arthur sat down to read the paper.

Within minutes, he had folded the paper aside with a look of distaste on his face. "The usual Prophet trash?" Remus asked dryly, as he blew the steam curling over his hot cup.

"What else?" sighed Arthur, rubbing his eyes wearily. The thundering sound of footsteps could be heard from the staircase, as the rest of the house-occupants headed down.

Sirius reached over for the paper and shaking it open, he proceeded to bury his face behind it.

A gaggle of red-heads entered, talking loudly, followed by Hermione who was shaking her head in exasperation.

"I don't see what your problem is, Ron," Ginny was shouting at her brother angrily. "It's _none of your business!_"

"Of course it's my business. Weren't you running after that Corner bloke? And now you're dating Jeremy Watson. He's an idiot!" Ron was red in the face.

The twins were sniggering in the background as they took their seats at the end of the table. "You don't even know him, Ron!" Ginny turned away from him angrily and spotted Harry. She blushed and looked away quickly.

"You're gaining a reputation," warned Ron, not noticing the audience.

Ginny's eyes grew cold and she turned to her brother, opening her mouth to give him a thorough verbal lashing.

"That's enough you two," snapped Molly, interrupting the impending argument.

"Aww, Mum. You're spoiling all the fun!" whined Fred.

"We had the best seats in the house," sighed George theatrically.

Ginny sniffed, and flicked her long hair over her shoulder. Ron looked like he wanted to continue, but Hermione grabbed his elbow and steered him forcefully into a chair.

"Done with breakfast?" she asked, looking at Harry questioningly.

Harry nodded, and got up to put his plate in the sink. He quickly left the room for his first lesson.

Sirius took his time reading the paper.

"When is Harry's hearing?" asked Hermione.

"It's on the twelfth," answered Remus, smiling in thanks at Molly as she placed a plate in front of him.

"They can't really expel him. He was just defending himself," Ron spoke up, as he dug in to his food.

Arthur and Molly exchanged worried glances, but didn't say anything. Remus, however, replied, "This is Fudge we're talking about. He's quite capable of expelling Harry if he chooses to." Spotting the worried looks around the table, he gave them a reassuring smile, "But Dumbledore won't let that happen."

Sirius felt a frisson of annoyance. He clamped it down, and set the paper aside. "Let's just hope for the best," he said, deciding that he needed to show some sign of interest in Harry's upcoming trial.

Stalking out of the room, he headed up the stairs and paused in the hallway, glancing back to see if anyone was following him. Seeing that the coast was clear, he cast a portrait freezing charm on all the paintings in the hallway. A family charm that he had not bothered letting the Order know about.

In most wizarding houses, it was a custom to install a Floo in the entrance hallway. It gave the owners of the house a bit more warning when visitors arrived unannounced. The kitchen floo address was only used by family members.

No one had thought to question Sirius when he had only given the Order the _kitchen floo_ address. Now he only needed some kind of diversion, while Harry used the entrance hall floo for his meeting with Amelia Bones.

Sirius glanced up at the slightly rotten ceiling. Years of neglect had left a gaping hole there, exposing the plumbing pipes mounted there. An idea struck him. He quickly cast the spells required, and headed back to the basement. He needed to check that everything was in place for his grand prank.

Later, Sirius stopped by Harry's decoy bedroom, and found Harry working on his Hogwart's homework. Ron was trying to convince Harry to help in cleaning the house.

"Ron, that's your job. Stop trying to dump it on Harry. He's got to finish his homework. Besides, I need you to help me with my project," Hermione was arguing, while Ron was vainly trying to pretend that he couldn't hear her.

Finally fed up, she grabbed Ron, and pulled him out of the room, nodding at Sirius as they swept past.

"How's it going?" asked Sirius, double checking the wards to make sure that no one was within hearing distance.

"Boring," grumbled Harry, looking up from his History of Magic Essay. "Especially after that interesting lecture I had in the morning."

"Oh?" Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Protective Magic, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," answered Harry, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. Professor Eigner's introduction to Ancient Runes. The lecture was amazing. And afterwards we talked about the various fields in which Runes can be used. He even took me through the step-by-step process of broom-crafting. Plus, he explained how they are used in the manufacture of Firebolts to give the broom a superior performance."

"Sounds good," said Sirius. "And you have what, Healing next?"

"Combat Magic," corrected Harry. "Professor Eigner spoke to Professor Shim and she agreed to explain a bit about the use of runes in combat."

Sirius smiled at Harry's enthusiasm. "Guess I'll see you at lunch then. Remember to stay alert for any warnings the wards give you about people walking towards this room."

"Now, that you've taught me how to pause the pensive lectures, it shouldn't be a problem" answered Harry.

Sirius nodded and left Harry to his homework. Having nothing else to do, Sirius went up to his room, and logged on to the Magi-Web. Looking through his list of contacts he found one of them online.

'_Sirius: Sam, need a favor…_

_Sam: ??_

_Sirius: Harry's trial is on the 12th, and I need a group of international reporters to show up _

_Sam: Actual reporters or actors?_

_Sirius: Real reporters…want them to print stories on the true state of Britain_

_Sam: What are you planning Sirius?_

_Sirius: You'll see…'_

The rest of the day passed quickly. Harry was in a state of perpetual excitement. He animatedly recounted his second lecture to Sirius during his Heir training.

"She projected memories of actual battles she's fought in. You should how quickly they moved. There wasn't even time to think! All I could see were streams of light. I wasn't able to recognise even a single spell that was used."

Sirius grinned as he watched his godson gesturing widely, eyes sparkling. He steered him towards his wardrobe.

"Have you looked in here yet?" he asked.

"I haven't had time to unpack. Everything is still in my trunk," said Harry, eyeing the wardrobe curiously.

"I found some of my old clothes hanging in here when I opened up the house. The preservation charms have kept them intact," Sirius said, as he pulled the door open.

Harry took one look at the contents inside, before turning to Sirius with an exasperated expression.

"Sirius, it's a bloody store in here,"

Sirius shrugged. "Not my fault. My family insisted on buying separate clothes for every occasion. So we've got anniversaries, birthdays, funerals, weddings, coming-of-age ceremonies,…"

"Sirius, what's that?" Harry interrupted, pointing at a mask heavily decorated with peacock feathers.

"Uhh…," Sirius valiantly tried to come up with a believable story.

"Oh never mind," said Harry. Behind his back, Sirius heaved a sigh of relief. Unfortunately, Harry continued, "There's a picture of you wearing it, tacked on the wall."

Sirius barely resisted the urge to bang his head on the wall. Harry turned to face him, and by the expression on his face, he knew that Harry would be using this as blackmail material for months.

"It was a stupid ball I had to go to, all right? Trust me, I _did not _want to wear that."

"I didn't say anything," Harry replied, not bothering to hide his smirk.

Sirius ignored him in favour of selecting robes for Harry's upcoming meeting. Finally he found one that was neither too gaudy nor too simple for the occasion. He held up the black robe with silver trimmings, and Harry frowned. "It's too large for me."

"So shrink it," Sirius countered, and then yelped, "Watch where you're aiming your wand," as Harry pointed his wand in his direction.

"Don't worry, Sirius," Harry laughed. "I'll be careful."

After his evil godson had pulled on the robes, Sirius proceeded to teach him how to carry himself properly.

"Why is this important?" Harry grumbled, as Sirius once again corrected his slouch.

"It's all about making an impression, Harry," explained Sirius, patiently. "You're the third front in this war. Dumbledore has got his twinkle-eyed grandfather personality, and Voldemort can be charming when he wants to be. How are you going to sway people to your side when you hide yourself in those baggy clothes?"

Harry looked hurt, so Sirius hastily tried to console him. "It's not your fault, Harry. You've never had the opportunity to do something for _yourself_. But now that I'm here, you're not alone anymore, okay?"

Harry gave him a small smile, and tried the walk again. Sirius face-palmed. "With confidence, Harry" he repeated, for the hundredth time.

By the end of the hour, Harry had got the walk down. Sirius had also coached Harry on how to handle the meeting so thoroughly, that Harry would probably be able to do it in his sleep.

Then it was time for a bit of fun. During the Marauder Hour, Sirius explained, much to Harry's delight, the prank he was planning to pull on the house-occupants. He also taught Harry the hairstyle-switching spell. On seeing the memory of that fourth year prank, where Snivellus had suddenly found himself with a first-year's ponytails, Harry had laughed so hard that tears were streaming down his face.

For the rest of the evening, he would randomly burst into giggles, much to Molly's consternation. She glared at the twins, who were equally clueless about Harry's state.

At half-past eight, Harry excused himself, and left the kitchen. Everyone else was still eating dinner. Ten minutes later, as Molly got up to fetch the desert, Sirius quietly whispered to Tonks, "Why don't you help her with that?"

Tonks nodded and got up, not noticing the wince Molly gave as she spotted her heading her way. Sirius aimed his wand at her under the table and cast a silent Tripping Jinx, just as she passed the sink.

His spell struck the intended target. She careened wildly, and tried to catch her balance. In the split second when everyone's attention was on Tonks, Sirius cast the trigger spell which activated the wards in the hallway and in front of the kitchen.

These wards had been cast around the plumbing pipes in the afternoon. When activated, they caused the pipes to constrict, until they burst. Sirius had also tied to the wards, a certain spell, which would be released only once the pipes had burst. The effect promised to be entertaining, but more importantly, it allowed Harry to sneak out of the house undetected.

Tonks had meanwhile managed to catch her balance at the edge of the sink. She leaned heavily on it, trying to catch her breath. Before anyone could react, there was a sudden groaning sound, and the sink sunk into the ground.

Sirius hid a smirk. Any moment now, …

There was a sound like a thunder-clap, and then it suddenly started raining outside the kitchen.

"Oh my," Molly stood stunned, staring out of the door. Everyone gathered at the door, watching the heavy downpour. It was impossible to see anything beyond the rain.

"Looks like a pipe burst," Sirius said, acting as surprised as the rest.

"Should be easy to clear up," said Arthur, pulling out his wand.

"Are those clouds forming?" Hermione asked, peering anxiously into the hallway. Sure enough, dark clouds that had formed in the space of a few seconds, were hanging in front of the door, rumbling ominously. The spell Sirius had tied to the ward was working beautifully.

"Sorry, sorry. I'll fix this," a flustered Tonks cried out. She cast a spell at a cloud, only to have it disappear. The cloud noticeably grew bigger. Remus cast a spell, and once again the cloud grew in size.

"It's absorbing the magic," said Hermione, stating the obvious.

"Can we make a run for it?" Ron asked, and before anyone could reply, he had stepped out the doorway.

There was another thunder clap, followed by a flash of lightening which momentarily blinded everyone.

When everyone could see again, they spotted him lying on the floor, soaked to the bone. "Ron!" Molly cried out anxiously, helping him to his feet, and trying to straighten his hair which was standing on its end.

"Wicked," exclaimed the twins, simultaneously.

Molly shot them a glare, and pushed Ron into a chair, drying him with a swish of her wand.

"Hello, anyone there?" Harry's voice sounded from near the staircase.

"Stay where you are, Harry. We're trying to resolve this," Arthur called out.

"Can you see the pipes from where you're standing?" Sirius called out, in a concerned tone.

"Yeah, I can see them. One of the ceiling pipes has cracked open," Harry replied.

Sirius visibly heaved a sigh of relief. "What is it?" Tonks asked.

"The ceiling pipes don't carry much water. It's only one pipe that's burst, so it should peter out in an hour or so," said Sirius. To emphasize his point, he sat down and helped himself to a bit of treacle tart.

"Hey guys, I'm going to wait this out in my room okay?" Harry called out.

"Okay. That seems to be the best option right now," Arthur answered.

Everyone re-took their seats around the table, and began to dig into their desert. Sirius resisted breaking out into triumphant laughter.

Harry, dressed and ready for his meeting, confidently walked through the clear path from the staircase to the floo that Sirius had made for him. He waved his wand at the fireplace, and a roaring fire instantly appeared.

Throwing a pinch of floo powder in, he called out his destination – Amelia Bones' office!

* * *

Coming up next: Meeting Amelia Bones


	12. Meeting Amelia Bones

**Chapter 12: Meeting Amelia Bones**

Amelia Bones couldn't help but stare as _Harry Potter_ fell out of her floo and landed on his bum.

"Are you alright, young man?" she asked, moving forward to help him up. He stood up quickly, brushing the soot of his robe, and blushing furiously. She could have sworn he muttered something like "damn godfather".

He looked up, giving her a sheepish smile, and then held out his hand.

"Harry Potter" he said, in a confident tone, startling her with the sudden change in demeanor. It was like he had suddenly found himself on stage, and was acting out a half-memorised role.

"Thank you for agreeing to see me," he continued, and Amelia shook herself out of her thoughts and replied, "Your letter indicated that it was a matter of great importance".

"It is," he answered somberly, as he took the seat she offered.

Amelia took her seat across the table and waited for him to continue.

"I believe I mentioned the attack by dementors, against my cousin and I," he stated, resting his hands on the armrest.

Amelia nodded, wondering what exactly this boy wanted from her. If he hoped that she would somehow excuse him from attending the trial, then he had another thing coming.

"I would like to share my memories of the incident. And other equally important ones that are relevant," he said.

Amelia silently levitated her pensieve onto the table in front of him. He took out his wand, and handed it to her.

"Please cast the Priori Incantatem on it," he asked.

Amelia did as requested, and could barely hold back a startled gasp. Out of the tip of the wand emerged a beautiful ethereal patronus – a stag.

"Did you cast this? A corporeal patronus?" she asked. For someone who was barely fifteen, it was very impressive.

"Yes, Madam. I'll be showing you the memory in a moment," he replied, stretching out his hand to accept his wand back.

Holding the tip of the wand to his forehead, he pulled out a long silvery thread and dumped it in the pensieve.

He pushed the bowl towards her, and watched as she cast a series of spells to check for any sign of manipulation. Satisfied, she looked up and asked, "Will you be joining me?"

A shadow passed over his face, and Amelia wondered if rumors of his reaction to the dementors were true.

"I'd rather not. There are several _unpleasant_ memories that I need to share with you that were hard enough to go through the first time around."

"Very well." Amelia wasn't worried about leaving him alone in her office. She had plenty of wards that would alert her if he tried anything.

Pressing her face into the contents of the bowl, she felt herself falling and landed on her feet in the middle of a park. She glanced around and found Potter seated on a rusty swing, moodily staring at the ground. 'Why was he dressed like that?" she wondered, staring at the pathetic rags he had clothed himself in.

The sound of voices caused both of them to look up. A group of teenage boys were approaching the park, laughing and talking loudly. One look at them, and Amelia knew they were trouble.

A glance at Potter, and she could see that he was itching for a fight. The boys continued along the road, until they were out of sight, and Potter's shoulders slumped, almost as if he was disappointed.

He scowled and followed in their direction. Amelia hastened to follow. Spotting the gang again, he quickly stepped into the shadow of a tree and waited.

"…squealed like a pig, didn't he?" a burly boy said, and the other boys laughed.

"Nice right hook, Big D," a thin mousy looking one said, slapping the back of an obese boy.

Amelia watched as Potter rolled his eyes. They stood in silence as the gang dispersed, until only the 'Big D' was left.

She observed Potter move behind him, and call out, "Hey, Big D!"

The boy turned, and instantly grimaced. Amelia watched as Potter taunted the boy (probably his cousin, she thought as she remembered his letter) about his new nickname. He appeared to be getting some sick sense of satisfaction on taking out his frustrations on his cousin. Was the Daily Prophet right about him?

Amelia almost felt sorry for his cousin until she heard him talk nonchalantly about beating up a ten year old kid.

She watched as Potter pulled out his wand. The sudden fear in his cousin's eyes was worrying. What had he done to his cousin?

And suddenly the tables were turned.

"I heard you last night. Talking in your sleep. Moaning," Dudley sneered.

Potter's face drained of all color. "What d'you mean?"

"Don't kill Cedric! Don't kill Cedric!" Who's Cedric – your boyfriend?" Dudley laughed mockingly.

Amelia felt a cold chill settle in her chest.

"Come and help me, Dad! Mum, come and help me! He's killed Cedric! Dad, help me! He's going to –" his words were cut off as Potter suddenly pointed his wand straight in his face. He was breathing heavy and looked too angry for words.

"Don't ever talk about that again," he snarled. "D'you understand me?"

'Point that thing somewhere else!'

'I said, _do you understand me_?'

Their heated exchange was interrupted as the lights in the street flickered. Everything suddenly grew dark. Silence descended in the empty street.

Although Amelia was insulated from the effect of the dementors, she could feel goose bumps rising along her skin.

And then it happened. A dementor appeared at the end of the street, and its rattling inhalation was heard. Dudley panicked, and lashing out managed to knock down his cousin, only to run straight at the foul creatures.

"DUDLEY, COME BACK! YOU'RE RUNNING RIGHT AT IT!" Potter yelled, as he scrambled around, trying to find his wand.

"Come on," he muttered frantically, groping in the dark. "Lumos"

Amelia gasped. His wand had lit up! The boy was obviously powerful to have channeled his magic like that. Was he trained in wandless magic?

A second dementor was approaching him. Potter was unsuccessfully trying to fight off it effect.

Two tries, and nothing. Then – "EXPECTO PATRONUM"

The enormous silver stag that Amelia had seen earlier, erupted from his wand. The dementor shrieked in pain, as it was gored by its antlers.

As the defeated dementor fled the scene, Potter directed his patronus to the other dementor. Amelia's heart was in her throat as she watched the foul creature lower his hood over the prone boy.

The patronus caught the dementor with its antlers and flung it in the air, and as Potter ran towards his cousin, it escaped.

Thinking that was the end of it, Amelia was prepared to leave when she spotted Arabella Figg running towards the two, looking completely winded.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Amelia said, smirking.

*******************

As Amelia rose out of the pensieve, she observed that Potter was still seated where she had left him. He waited patiently for her to take her seat. Amelia made sure her expression betrayed none of her thoughts.

"You said there were other memories you wanted me to see?" she prompted.

He simply nodded, and pulled out another long strand of memory. He stared at the bowl, and from his eyes, she could make out that he was reliving the horror of that memory.

Silently she entered into the second memory.

Fifteen minutes later, Amelia had landed back in her office, her face pale and body shaking.

"It's true! He's back!" she whispered. And for the first time, she saw a flare of anger light up in his eyes.

"Do you see now? What the Prophet is trying to do?" he asked, as he shook his head in disgust.

Amelia clutched the corners of her table and took deep, steadying breaths.

"Did you tell anyone from the Ministry about this," she asked, managing to keep her voice from shaking.

He snorted. "Of course I did. Take a look," he replied, pulling out another strand of memory.

By the time Amelia had gotten back, she was over her initial shock. Instead, she was furious. The reason?

Fudge. That moronic pea-brained idiot who had somehow landed himself the role of Minister.

She sat quietly in her seat fuming for sometime, while her companion made no effort to interrupt her thoughts. She thought about dear Edgar, and the loss she had felt when he and his wife, had been brutally tortured and murdered by Voldemort himself. She remembered holding her niece in her arms, struggling not to cry. She remembered the promise she had made to herself. Every single Death Eater had learnt to fear her skills in battle. And when the Ministry had promoted her to a desk job, she had ensured that she had used every bit of power she wielded to make sure the people she caught got their due.

Yet, it hadn't been enough. Voldemort's reign of terror seemed unstoppable. And then, the impossible had happened. He was defeated by a mere baby. Amelia remembered the joy she had felt, when she had learnt that her brother's murderer was gone. She remembered the cries of people around her, 'Long live Harry Potter!"

The boy was a legend. But for eleven years, he had disappeared from the public eye. Then he had come back and had sent the public in a tizzy. Rumors about him floated all around, but no one knew the truth. Amelia herself was quite shocked at how _ordinary_ he was. No fancy airs, not a trace of arrogance. In fact, it seemed to be the opposite. He seemed to be the shy brooding type.

Observing him from the corner of her eye, she noticed him struggling to put on an air of indifference at her unnerving silence. Someone had coached him, she realized. But who?

"Why did you approach me?" she asked, wanting to know at the outset what his expectations from this meeting were.

"The only people in the know were not bothering to do anything with the information I had provided," he said. Amelia noticed how he had carefully phrased his reply to include not only Fudge but also Dumbledore.

Did Potter know that he had not only provided proof of Voldemort's return, but also of the existence of the Order of the Phoenix? What would Dumbledore do if he found out?

"What do you know about Arabella Figg?" she asked.

She was amused at the way he tried to hide his scowl. "She was my babysitter. As you must have seen, I had no idea that she was aware of the magical world, until the attack."

Amelia nodded. It was clear that Dumbledore had planted that woman.

"How do your Muggle relatives treat you?" Amelia asked. From what she had seen of his pathetic cousin, his whining Aunt, and the verbal lashing his Uncle had given him on spotting his son's state, she was worried about Potter's home life.

Obviously caught off guard, he simply shrugged. An action that was contrary to the pureblood act he was trying to pull off. Amelia was dying to have a word with his coach.

Dropping the matter for the time being, she opened a file that she had kept ready for this very meeting. "I strongly believe there is a connection between the two 'incidents' you've shown me. But for the moment, I will be treating them as separate cases. First is the attack by dementors. I have your file from the Improper Use of Magic office. There are two incidents of note here, in your second and third year."

He nodded as though expecting this. "The first one was done by a house-elf that was trying to prevent me from going back to Hogwarts. The second one – well I'd rather you see the memory for yourself." He pulled out two separate strands and placed them in the bowl.

"I'll look at them later. Now the standard questions required before I can file an attempted murder case. Do you know of anyone who would wish to get rid of you?" she asked, the corners of her mouth twitching.

"Voldemort, his Death Eaters, Fudge… Take your pick," he smiled back.

"Have there been attempts on your life in the past?" she asked, casting her mind back to that Halloween night.

To her surprise, he didn't refer to the night he lost his parents. Instead he pulled out what looked like half his memories, and dumped it in her pensieve.

Eyes wide, she spluttered, "You can't be serious."

His expression showed no signs of amusement. "There has been an attempt on my life during every single year I've been at Hogwarts"

"What!" she exploded. "Dumbledore didn't inform me of anything of that kind."

He snorted, and leaned back. "Dumbledore? Isn't that man above the law?"

Amelia _did not_ like the implications of his statement. Frowning heavily she barked out, "You'd better explain what you mean. Right now."

"He makes the rules, he enforces it. But who checks up on the great man himself? If Dumbledore says so, it must be right. Isn't that the attitude here? So no one says anything when the man takes a one year old baby and leaves him on his Muggle relatives doorstep. No one bothers to question the absence of the Boy-who-lived from the wizarding world. No one finds out that he has left the head of a pureblood family ignorant about his own inheritance. Nobody knows the dangers he exposes his students to every year." Potter said this all in a calm, almost aloof tone, but Amelia could see the poorly hidden anger in his eyes.

Amelia was silent for sometime, but her mind was working furiously. From the bits and pieces she had gathered, she understood that Dumbledore had been poking his nose into Potter's life for too long. It appeared that the boy had actually entered the wizarding world with no knowledge of his fame. How could that old coot leave the _Boy-who-lived _unprepared for role he knew was going to be thrust upon him?

Suddenly it all made sense. The reason for his shy diffident attitude was not his usual personality, but the insecurity he felt at his ignorance of this world. Someone had opened his eyes to Dumbledore's true nature. Probably the same person who had suggested that he approach her.

"Dumbledore supports your claim of Voldemort's return," she pointed out.

"He does," he answered, not elaborating.

"Do you wish to press some kind of charges against him?" Amelia asked, wondering how far he was willing to go.

"And have him wriggle out of them? I don't think so," he smirked.

Amelia felt a rush of irritation at his jaded words. But he _was _right. Charges against Dumbledore never seemed to stick.

The slander campaign Fudge had mounted against him was a temporary inconvenience. Voldemort's return couldn't stay hidden for long.

She sighed. "I'll speak to someone in the Improper Use of Magic office about dropping the hearing."

Surprisingly he shook his head at that. "No, I don't want that. The old man might get suspicious."

Understanding dawned on her. "Dumbledore has no idea that you've come to see me, and you want to keep it that way," she stated.

"Exactly."

She frowned. "The hearing is _supposed_ to be in my office. But I've been hearing rumors of Fudge wanting to hold a trial in one of the Courtrooms. Either way, I'm going to need to use your memories during the trial to prove your innocence."

"How about I come in early on the day of the trial and ditch whatever guard Dumbledore sends with me. If it's in your office, then I don't need to explain how you got my memories. But if it's an open trial then I'll say that I came in early for the trial, met you, and during the course of our conversation, I handed over my memories to you," he suggested.

It was a good plan, and Amelia agreed. "Dealing with Voldemort is going to be a lot more complicated though." She couldn't exactly voice her frustrations with the Minister openly.

"It will be complicated as long as Fudge is in power," he said carefully.

The conversation was entering dangerous grounds. The boy was practically implying overthrowing Fudge's government while sitting in a Ministry office.

She gave him a warning look, but he ploughed on. "I think that my upcoming trial is going to be very _enlightening_. It's not a closed trial is it? "

"No it isn't," she confirmed. Fudge probably wanted the world to watch as he crucified the Boy-who-lived.

"Then the evidence you present will be an eye-opener to many. Getting people to accept the truth is after all the first step in dealing with that monster."

Amelia agreed. She spent the next ten minutes taking down his statement.

"Final question. Please name all the Death Eaters you remember seeing during the rebirth ceremony," she asked.

"Avery. Crabbe. Goyle. Nott. Malfoy. Macnair. Pettigrew," he stated.

Sweet Merlin, Amelia thought. How many more surprises is this evening going to hold? Resigning herself, she wearily asked, "Pettigrew?"

His face was a mask of hate. "Peter Pettigrew. The man Voldemort referred to as 'Wormtail'."

Amelia quickly cast her mind back to the rebirth ceremony. From what she could make out in that dark graveyard, the man did indeed resemble Pettigrew. Mind working furiously, she wondered what Sirius Black's role in the whole mess was.

He continued. "I need to take my leave. I've stayed as long as I could. You can use the communication parchment if you need to contact me for anything else."

Amelia quickly duplicated his memories, and returned the originals to him.

He shook her hand, and walked towards the fire place. Turning around he added, "Madam Bones, among the many memories I have given you, you will also find evidence of another person's innocence." He hesitated. "This person means a lot to me, and I'd appreciate any efforts you can make towards ensuring that justice is served to the _real_ criminal."

And with that, he was gone.

Amelia waited for a second, before diving for the pensieve. Pressing a rune on the side, she ensured that all the memories would now be played in the sequence in which the events had occurred.

Taking a deep breath she plunged herself in.

An hour later, a pale and shaky Amelia Bones, landed back in her office and collapsed into her chair. "Merlin!"

A mere child facing Voldemort, basilisks, dementors, and werewolves with such courage! Amelia felt a new found respect for the Boy-who-lived. He was every bit as courageous as his father.

And suddenly she was lost in memories of two bright eyed recruits who had joined her team. James Potter and Sirius Black. She had been wary of the two at first, having heard of their 'exta-curricular' activities in school. The other trainers had been quite critical about their _unorthodox _methods.

But when they had been assigned to Amelia's team, she found herself blown away. It was true that they didn't use the same standard practices that the other recruits adopted. But Amelia saw this as an advantage against Death Eaters who had been trained on how to react to the standard Auror spells. And she had been proved right.

Within their first week in the field, the two had managed to capture three middle-ranked Death Eaters with what they called the Disco Ball jinx - a spell that created a flashing lights effect that tended to hypnotise those not protected by the counterspell. Her co-workers had complained that they were ruining the reputation of Britain's Auror force; Amelia pointed out the fact that not being able to catch terrorists was doing better job of ruining their reputation – her men were getting the results, never mind the 'technique'.

She would never in a hundred years have accepted that Sirius Black had betrayed his best friend and comrade. They were the perfect team. But with all the evidence pointing his way, Amelia had reconciled herself to believing that perhaps this time, her intuition was wrong.

Now Amelia could do nothing more than curse herself for failing one of her own Aurors. Because of her blindness and stupidity, an innocent man had spent thirteen years with the foulest creatures on the planet.

Dumbledore knew, she realized. He had helped Black escape the Kiss. Why had he not brought this to her notice? Was it to avoid bringing to light the fact that he had instigated two thirteen year olds to break all time-travel laws in a bid to help Black escape?

Dumbledore was playing a dangerous game with the Boy-who-lived. It seemed that Potter had now realised that the old man was up to something. And Amelia knew just who had probably opened his eyes. Harry's godfather, the one and only Sirius Black.

If she was going to set this right, then she had a ton of things to do.

Getting those ridiculous charges against Potter dropped. Writing a few letters to the more _influential_ members of the Wizengamot. Pushing Fudge (or his successor, most likely) to get proactive against Voldemort. Stepping up the training for the Auror forces. Keeping a look out for Pettigrew (alias: Wormtail). Launching investigations into every single breach of security at Hogwarts over the years. Keeping a close eye on Dumbledore and his Order. Not to mention, all the 'former' Death Eaters including Lucius Malfoy and co.

But first, she was going to get herself a pot of coffee. She needed to pull a couple of all-nighters to get on top of the situation.

A shot of caffeine later, Amelia rolled up her sleeves and got down to work. She had a Dark Lord to catch.

* * *

**Author's note: **Does anyone know when the prophecy was actually made? Was it before or after Harry's birth?


	13. The trial

**Chapter 13: The trial**

The night before his hearing, Harry didn't get much sleep. He tossed and turned and tried to calm his thoughts. Eventually giving up, he decided to get himself a glass of water and crept downstairs quietly.

"Sirius!" he exclaimed, rather surprised to see his godfather in the kitchen. "What are you doing here?"

"Couldn't sleep," he replied, giving Harry a half smile. "Hot chocolate?" he asked, even as he poured Harry a mug.

Sitting down, he covered the warm mug with both hands, and peered up at Harry through his long hair. Harry slid into a chair, and grabbed the mug as Sirius cast an anti-eavesdropping spell.

"Don't worry about the trial, Harry. Amelia Bones will handle it." Sirius gave him a reassuring smile.

Harry didn't answer and just stared at his mug.

"Hey." Sirius reached out and tugged his hand. "What's on your mind?"

Harry looked up, and shook his head. "Nothing. It's just… what if she doesn't manage to convince Fudge and I get expelled anyway?"

"It's not Fudge she needs to convince. It's the other members of the Wizengamot. Once she's got them on your side then there is nothing Fudge can do. He needs a majority to pass any sort of judgment." Sirius replied, tilting his head to see if he was getting through.

Harry was still frowning. "But what if…?"

Sirius interrupted, "If things still don't work in your favor, then you're going to get to do a lot more home schooling. You don't need to waste your time studying the Hogwarts syllabus. You can spend a lot more time on your training."

"I won't go back to the Dursleys?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Of course not. And if Dumbledore tries anything, then we'll just advance our plans and leave the country immediately," Sirius replied firmly.

Harry let out a breath. "Good. I was worried about that."

Sirius gave him a grin. "Hey, you're a Marauder's son! Things like these don't faze you. You're going to go out there tomorrow and show them what happens when you mess with Harry Potter."

Harry laughed and returned to his steadily cooling hot chocolate, gulping it down in one go.

"You're right," he said, still grinning like a loon. "They'll never know what hit them."

* * *

At five thirty in the morning, Harry was waiting in the training room for his Occlumency lesson to begin. Instead, Sirius rushed in with a frown on his face, clutching a piece of parchment. A closer look, and Harry was able to identify it as the communication parchment he had used to contact Madam Bones.

"The timings have been changed. The trial now starts at eight o'clock in Courtroom Ten."

Harry suddenly felt as if the butterflies in his stomach had returned tenfold. Sirius helped him pen a reply back, asking to meet Madam Bones in her office at seven.

"Get dressed. I'll get breakfast started," Sirius instructed. "And don't worry!" he called out, as he left the room.

Harry stifled a laugh at Sirius' equally flustered state, and pulled on the robes they had selected yesterday. This time Sirius had made sure that they were a bit grander, as befitted the Head of the Potter house. He had also explained to Harry that in order to avoid revealing his knowledge of his inheritance, he was not going to wear the Potter Family crest on his robes.

Hair swept back using a bit of magic hair gel, Harry eyed himself critically in the mirror. "Back upright. Shoulders straight. Chin up. 'Don't mess with me' look," he said, repeating the mantra Sirius had drilled in his head.

Deep breaths, he consciously thought, as he walked down the stairs. He stepped into the kitchen and found Sirius piling on a few slices of toast on his plate. "Figured you wouldn't be too hungry," he said as he handed Harry his breakfast.

"So it had nothing to do with you not being able to cook anything else?" Harry asked, as he chewed on the first slice.

Sirius swatted his head, and sat down, mock-glaring at Harry. "Cheeky brat."

Tonks, who was seated at the table clasping a mug of coffee, seemed oblivious to their banter. Her eyes were drooping shut from time to time. "No more night duty for me. Need my…_ (Yawn)…_beauty sleep."

Night duty? Was it for the Order? Harry thought, as he exchanged puzzled looks with Sirius.

Sirius silently shook his head, unseen by Tonks. It looked like he was equally clueless.

"Harry dear, you're already up! I was just coming down to make breakfast for you," Mrs. Weasley greeted, as she entered the kitchen with her husband.

Harry smiled at her, and replied, "Thanks Mrs. Weasley, but I'm almost ready to go."

"But your hearing isn't for a couple of hours!" Mrs. Weasley cried out, surprised to find him all geared up.

Harry shrugged sheepishly. "I know. But I couldn't sleep. I'd rather get there earlier, than hang around here worrying."

"Alright Harry. Let me finish my breakfast and we'll be on our way. Until your hearing begins, I can show you around the Ministry," said Mr. Weasley, as he slid into a chair.

* * *

It was nearly seven by the time they had reached the Ministry Atrium. Molly had bestowed hug upon hug on Harry, and kept telling him, "Not to worry, everything will be all right." Then she would step back and attempt to smooth out the creases in his robes, until Mr. Weasley finally pulled Harry away. Sirius, looking grim, had simply nodded at Harry and clapped him on the back. But Harry could see the laughter in his eyes, and was hard pressed not to grin back.

With all the coaching Sirius had given him, Harry couldn't help but feel more confident this time around. When he had recounted his meeting with Madam Bones to Sirius, describing in great length how mortified he had been when he had fallen out of the floo, Sirius' first reaction was hysterical laughter. His second reaction was doubling the amount of time he spent training Harry.

"After all, the trial is our first immediate concern. Get that out of the way, and then you can focus on your studies." Sirius had told him.

Harry had always been a quick learner where matters of survival were concerned, and after the embarrassing meeting with Madam Bones, he was determined not to make a fool of himself in front of the Wizengamot. He still didn't like prancing around like a pureblood, but he understood the importance of making impression.

Thus, it was it was a self-assured, confident Harry Potter that walked into the Ministry Atrium that day.

After they had passed the wand-inspection counter, a young, pretty woman in her mid-twenties hurried towards them.

"Good morning, Sally," Mr. Weasley greeted, and attempted to brush past her.

"Morning, Arthur. I need to escort Potter to Amelia's office right away." Sally moved to block their progress.

"I'll take him. This must be regarding the hearing," Arthur replied, trying to get past the woman.

Harry hid a smile.

"Arthur, Amelia has personally asked me to bring him to her office. You needn't worry, I'll inform you as soon as they're done," Sally said, firmly, in a no-nonsense tone of voice, as she placed herself between the two of them.

Sally steered Harry into a waiting lift and pressed a button.

"But Dumbledore…" Harry heard Arthur say, as the lift doors closed.

"Well, that was easy," Sally muttered, and Harry couldn't help but smirk.

A few people in the lift were giving Harry curious looks, but Harry ignored them and tried to stare straight ahead instead of at the hovering inter-departmental memos.

At the second level, a cool female voice announced 'Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters and Wizengamot Administration Services."

Sally stepped off and guided Harry through a corridor lined with doors. Harry observed the enchanted windows, charmed by the Magical Maintenance department, which allowed light to stream in underground, and mentally made a note to ask his Charms Professor about them later.

They reached a pair of heavy oak doors that opened into an area that was divided into cubicles. 'Auror Headquarters,' read a sign. Harry observed the talking and laughing Aurors out of the corner of his eye. Some of them waved at Sally, and one particularly cheeky one winked at her, and opened his mouth to say something. Sally picked up her pace and they rushed past him, till they reached a corner office. Sally knocked, and opened the door when Madam Bones' crisp voice was heard, calling, "Enter".

Harry followed Sally in to the familiar looking office. Madam Bones was standing behind her desk, arranging some parchments. She stopped a moment to charm one of the parchments into a flying memo, and it took-off and zoomed over Harry's head.

"You're on time Potter. Good. Sally you know what needs to be done." Madam Bones said, handing over the parchments to Sally.

Sally nodded, and left the room.

"I like that girl. Not like some of the jokers in this place," Madam Bones said conversationally, and gestured towards a chair.

Harry sat down, and attempted not to think of how badly this meeting could go. She could easily claim that he was hiding an escaped convict, and douse him with Veritaserum. Or, she could choose to protect her position rather than take on the Minister of Magic. If she decided to side with Fudge, her credibility would lend strong support to his campaign. It all depended on what she had decided to do in the space of the few days since their first meeting.

As it happened, Madam Bones was a woman of her word.

"Here are the forms I need you to sign. Any spells will reveal that they were signed today."

Harry pored over them. They were all detailed descriptions of the pensieve memories he had provided, as well as the statements he had given in the previous meeting. He carefully went through them and then signed his name at all the required places.

Madam Bones accepted them back and placed them in a folder. "I've contacted all my old friends in the Wizengamot. They will all be attending today's session. Fudge tried to change the timing so that he could ensure that the majority of his opponents were absent during today's session, but I had kept a look out for this very tactic. I've managed to notify all of them about the change in timing, and most have confirmed their attendance."

Harry gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

Madam Bones waved a hand dismissively. "You don't need to thank me. I'm just doing my duty. I only hope that the members of the Wizengamot fulfill _their _duty."

Harry nodded and watched as Madam Bones' expression changed to a more uncertain one.

"As far as Sirius Black is concerned, I have informed my most trusted Aurors about the situation, and have asked them to keep a look out for the rat. Without solid evidence, a trial could lead to an _unfavorable _result. If we can trace Pettigrew, then clearing your godfather's name will not be a problem," said Madam Bones, still looking upset. "Rest assured, I _will _make sure that justice is served.

Harry nodded, grateful that at least _someone _was looking into clearing Sirius' name, at the same time upset that it wasn't happening as soon as he had hoped.

For the next twenty minutes, Madam Bones discussed the preparations she had been making over the past few days. She listed of a slew of reforms that she wanted implemented, which unfortunately needed the Minister's _and _the Wizengamot's approval.

It was obvious that she wanted the Boy-who-lived's public endorsement of her strategy, and after their discussion, Harry was sure that she would be getting it. Despite the restrictions, Harry was impressed with how much Madam Bones had managed to achieve. She was also surprisingly well informed about the Wizarding World outside Britain. If only other bureaucrats were like her, Harry thought wistfully, as Madam Bones paused to open yet another flying memo.

"Dumbledore is on his way here," Madam Bones said, tossing the memo into the fire, and reaching out to a jar of floo powder above the fireplace. "Let's get going. You're hearing starts in five minutes."

Harry walked towards the fireplace, and extracted a pinch of powder from the jar Madam Bones offered to him. "Courtroom Ten," he called out, at her prompting, and was promptly whisked away to his destination.

This time he carefully stepped out of the fireplace, making sure that he walked a few steps before stopping, in order to find his balance. There were five minutes left for his trial to start, and he could see a few well dressed people entering the only open door in the corridor.

The fireplace chimed, and Madam Bones elegantly stepped out. Harry noticed her carrying an official looking folder in her hands.

"No trouble this time?" she asked, with an amused smile on her face. Not pausing for his response, she strode straight towards Courtroom Ten. Harry hurried after her, fighting to control his blush.

Harry was rather surprised when they stepped into the courtroom. Not only was it being held in a dungeon, but it was also a familiar dungeon, one that he had actually visited in Dumbledore's pensieve.

Benches rose on either side of the courtroom; the few people seated in them were watching the proceedings. They were probably the reporters Sirius had arranged for. Straight ahead, on the highest benches, Wizengamot members were settling down, talking among themselves.

As they headed closer, Harry could make out Fudge talking to a few people clustered around him, "Terrible business. But one needs to take a firm hand in these matters. No one is above the law."

A few people spotted Madam Bones' as she approached, and called out greetings. She replied politely and took her seat. Harry remained standing in the center of the room, ensuring that he gave the impression of a powerful but down to earth young man.

It was then that Fudge noticed his presence, and gave a visible twitch of surprise. "Ah…the accused is here, so we may begin. Everyone please take your seats."

"Actually, Cornelius we still have five minutes left before the proceedings begin. We should wait for any other Wizengamot members who may arrive," Amelia neatly interjected.

Harry hid a smile at the casual way in which she had drawn attention to his punctuality.

"Very well. Take your seat," Fudge addressed Harry with a distinctly unpleasant look on his plump face.

Harry regally took a seat, plastering on an expression of utmost sincerity as he observed the Wizengamot. Some members were staring back at him curiously, and some seemed to have already made up their mind about him.

As his eyes swept over the rows of people, Harry was a bit startled to find Percy seated right at the end of the first row. Unlike the members who were dressed in official Wizengamot robes, Percy was dressed in a plain grey robe. He gave no sign of recognition towards Harry, and kept his gaze trained on the parchments in front of him.

The awkward silence the room had found itself in was broken by the sound of feet approaching them. A few moments later, a distinguished looking elderly gentleman entered the courtroom, at a calm pace.

"Right on time as always!" he declared, and a few people laughed. He was apparently a very popular in these circles, Harry observed, watching people welcome him as he took his seat.

"Well, we can now begin," said Fudge. "Are you ready?" he called down the row.

"Yes, sir," Percy replied, in that eager sycophantic voice he always used around authority.

Amelia waved her wand to shut the doors of the courtroom until the proceedings were over.

"Minister?" Madam Bones, spoke up before Fudge could. "We have one matter to take care of before the hearing can commence. We must choose a Chief Warlock among ourselves."

"Ah yes," Fudge said, and Harry could see gears turning in his head. "Well I suppose, I can handle the role for the moment," he said, in a tone that indicated some great sacrifice on his part.

"I'm afraid that's impossible, _Minister._"A man at the far end of the second row called out. "The very foundation of the British Wizarding Empire rests on the independence of the judiciary from the executive. Your presence here is _either _as a member of the Wizengamot, or as the Minister of Magic. You cannot play both roles in this courtroom. In fact, you should have resigned from the Wizengamot the moment you became the Minister, as others have done in the past, in order to avoid a conflict of interest."

Fudge's face was totally red by the end of the man's speech. Many members could be seen nodding their heads in agreement. Harry peered closely and recognized the man who had spoken as Rufus Scrimgeour.

Fudge coughed and answered, "Yes, well I was only trying to step in temporarily. But we shall nominate someone else."

"I nominate Warlock Justin Hager Howes," Madam Bones announced.

"I second the motion," someone from the back called out.

In a short time, the man had won the majority of the members' votes, and was declared the new Chief Warlock. As the pleasantly surprised man made himself to his new seat, Harry recognized him as the one who had arrived for the hearing just in the nick of time. Sirius had profiled each of the members of the Wizengamot for him, identifying who were most likely to support him, which ones were out to get his blood, and who the fence-sitters were. From them, Harry knew that Howes was a politically independent man.

"Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August, into offences committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey," Chief Warlock Howes read out.

"Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the DMLE, Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister…"

Harry spotted the Umbridge woman lurking in the shadows next to Fudge.

"You are Harry James Potter, of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?" Fudge took over and asked, glaring at Harry.

Harry did not bother asking him to add his 'Lord' title, and simply answered, "Yes."

"You received an official warning from the Ministry for using illegal magic three years ago, did you not?" Fudge asked, looking like he was building steam for a major interrogation.

Harry immediately recognized that Fudge was going to try and bulldoze his way through the session, not giving him time to explain. So he simply blinked at the question.

Fudge, who had glanced at his parchment to read the next question, looked up surprised at the lack of answer. It was then that Harry chose to answer.

"I was incorrectly sent a notice for magic that was performed by a house-elf."

Fudge was momentarily stalled, but then burst out, "We don't have time to listen to your stories here! A house elf in a Muggle house? Ridiculous!" he laughed and a few members joined in.

"Actually Cornelius, Potter here was investigated for his claim, and was proved to be telling the truth," Madam Bones smoothly intervened.

Fudge began to splutter. "He was? Weatherby, why didn't you inform me of this development?"

Percy's ears turned red. "But Minister, there were no records of an investigation."

Madam Bones took over. "I was initially informed that the hearing would be in my office, and that I would be doing the questioning. Naturally, I conducted a full investigation into Potter's case and prior history of offences. He was completely cooperative and provided the evidence needed to prove his claim"

Harry could literally see alarm bells ringing around Fudge. "I see. Well back to the case at hand – you conjured a Patronus on the night of the second of August, did you not?"

Once again, Harry took his time answering the question. "To protect my cousin and myself from Dementors, it was necessary to cast a Patronus."

"Aha!" Fudge exclaimed, glancing around at the Wizengamot, with a victorious gleam in his eyes. "This was exactly what I had expected. A very convenient cover story, is it not? After all, Muggles can't see Dementors, and we have only your word to rely on."

There was a minor outbreak of twittering, and few heads could be seen nodding in agreement.

"As I mentioned earlier Cornelius, the DMLE has carried out a full investigation into Potter's claims. It has been established that there were indeed two Dementors on the loose, on the night of the second of August, and that they had attacked Potter and his cousin."

There was an instant uproar in the courtroom. Fudge had turned a pasty white color, as members tried to make themselves heard over the noise. Madam Bones simply sat back, with a grave look on her face.

"Hem, hem," a high-pitched, fluttery voice interrupted, just as the Chief Warlock called for silence. Harry realized that the sound had come from the Umbridge woman. Her voice was as unpleasant as her face. When she spoke, Harry got that distinctly repulsive nails-on-a-chalkboard feeling.

"The Chair recognizes Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister," said the Chief Warlock. Fudge was eagerly looking at his rescuer.

"I'm sure you must be mistaken, Amelia. All Dementors are under Ministry control and busy guarding Azkaban. No Dementor would have traveled all the way to a _Muggle _neighborhood to terrorize two boys. I'm afraid you must have bought into what is simply a figment of this boy's imagination," she said, with a cold smile on her face.

"Madam Umbridge, I resent your insinuation. As the _Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement _I am **very** much capable of carrying out a thorough investigation. In a few moments you shall all see the evidence with your own eyes," Madam Bones answered in a tone of voice that reminded everyone of her position. "May I?" she asked Chief Warlock Howes, who replied "Please present your evidence to this court."

Swiftly standing up, Madam Bones made her way to the center of the room, and waved her wand in a circle.

As a stone basin rose from the ground, she pulled out a bottle of swirling memories from the folder and emptied its contents into it. "That will not be necessary, Amelia. We all know that memories can be tampered with," Madam Umbridge said, trying to stop her.

"Perhaps you have not heard of the Verifier spell, Madam Umbridge. It can be used to irrefutably confirm that the memories are authentic," Madam Bone replied, equally firmly. As she finished speaking, she cast quickly cast the spell, and the pensieve glowed blue for a moment.

"Verified memories of Harry James Potter of the night of the second of August," she announced, pressing a rune on the side of the pensieve.

Harry watched in awe as a 3D replica of the scene was projected forth from the pensieve. He had no idea that memories could be viewed like this.

The scene started with memory-Harry holding his wand, looking around with a confused expression, while Dudley was gasping with fright. Harry was grateful to Madam Bones for editing the memory – he had no desire for the Wizengamot to view the taunts he and his cousin had exchanged before the attack.

The court watched in silence as the scene played out, though Harry's eyes were only on Fudge and his crony. Umbridge was frowning heavily, but her face revealed nothing. Fudge, on the other hand, looked visibly nervous.

When the Dementors appeared, several members cried out in shock. As memory-Harry managed to cast the Patronus, there were gasps of awe, and a smattering of applause could be heard from some sections of the court.

As the last scene faded and disappeared, a heavy silence followed. "The memories alone would have been sufficient evidence. Nevertheless, I checked the magical records at Azkaban which indicate that two Dementors were missing around the time of the attack." Madam Bones spoke up.

"There is still the matter of underage magic," Umbridge argued.

Harry spoke up for the first time since the memory-viewing, surprising many. "If I may bring it to the attention of this court – My cousin and his family are aware of the existence of magic. Under the Special Education Provisions Act of 1954 _and _the International Statute of Secrecy, I was well within my rights to use magic to defend myself."

His respectful tone seemed to have impressed many members, if the nodding of heads and whispering was any indication.

"I believe we should now cast a vote to declare the verdict," Chief Warlock Howes said somberly. "Unless there are any further questions?" he asked, looking at Fudge and his crony, who shook their heads slowly.

"Those in favor of clearing the witness of all charges?" he called out.

From his position, Harry thought that it appeared as though everyone had raised their hands.

"And those in favor of conviction?"

A few hands rose up. "Cleared of all charges."

Harry felt his heart swell with happiness. No matter how many times Sirius had assured him, the nagging worry had still plagued him. And now? He was free to concentrate fully on Sirius' plans.

He bowed his head, and rose from his seat, heading towards one of the side benches, just as Madam Bones had instructed.

"Chief Warlock, there is one matter remaining," Madam Bones said, handing over a slim file to Howes. He opened the file, and began studying its contents, as Fudge subtly tried to read over his shoulder.

A tense few moments later, the Chief Warlock announced, "It has been brought to my notice that the Dementors that attacked Harry Potter and his Muggle cousin on the night of the second of August, were under orders from someone within the Ministry. Madam Bones, as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, has short listed those Ministry employees who had the level of authorization required. She has cleared all employees who directly report to her, through the use of Veritaserum. Madam Bones has now requested a formal investigation to be carried out by the Wizengamot. She herself is willing to be questioned with Veritaserum about the incident."

"This is an outrage!" Umbridge cried out, before anyone could say anything. "How can you suspect Ministry employees? After all we have done for this country!"

There were a few noises of agreement, but before it could snowball into a major protest Madam Bones intervened. "So you think yourself above the law, Dolores? Who knows better about making sacrifices than Law Enforcement officials? They risk life and limb everyday to protect this country's magical population, but does that give them a right to abuse their power? If they are indeed doing their duty, then they have no reason to fear the truth."

"Well said!" a witch in the back called out, and a few people applauded.

"I see no reason to object to Madam Bones' request. A Dementor attack on Harry Potter no less, reveals an unexpected degree of corruption. This matter must be dealt with swiftly and seriously," Chief Warlock Howes declared.

"Thank you. As you have mentioned Chief Warlock Howes, it is necessary to quickly catch the perpetuators of this attack. If you approve of the questionnaire that I have provided, we may immediately start the questioning those who are present on hand," Madam Bones said.

Chief Warlock Howes found the necessary document and went through the list of questions which would be allowed during the investigation. "The list is approved. However, if there is any strong indication of guilt, then the questions may be modified."

Harry tried to hide his shock. He had expected Madam Bones to deal with the matter but he was unused to seeing people in the Wizarding world act so decisively.

One by one people who were called for the questioning stepped down and answered the questions posed to them. Each of them appeared to have no knowledge of the attack. Harry noticed that Umbridge was growing visibly restless. Finally she stood up, and attempted to leave the room.

"I have urgent work elsewhere. I'm afraid I need to leave," she said, attempting to brush past Madam Bones.

Madam Bones would have none of it. "In that case we can commence with your questioning now, so that you may leave immediately after."

Umbridge bristled, and tried to walk around her. "That would take too much time!"

Madam Bones simply raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure you would agree that rogue Dementors on the loose is a matter of grave importance? In that case you would hardly begrudge spending five minutes of your time helping us get to the bottom of the truth."

Umbridge raised herself to her full height, which was considerably shorter than Madam Bones. She glared fiercely at her, using what Harry supposed were her best intimidation tactics. "I'm Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic!" she snapped. "I demand that you stop badgering me at once. My time is of great importance, and I frankly find the fact that I am even under suspicion deeply insulting."

Her outburst had no effect on Bones, who simply looked on with an unimpressed expression. The standoff was interrupted by Chief Warlock Howes.

"Enough of this! Madam Umbridge, we understand that you may have prior commitments. However, the Wizengamot is in session at the moment, and your duty as a member comes first." Fixing a stern look at the angry toad-like witch, he continued, "Do you feel that it is still imperative for you to leave for some other task?"

Madam Umbridge, perhaps realizing that bullying the _Chief Warlock_ would not work, reverted back to her sugary tones. "Chief Warlock Howes, it is a matter of utmost importance, and it is vital that I be present to take care of it."

"Very well," he said. For a moment, the court was stunned into silence – Bones looked outraged.

"Chief Warlock Howes…," she began, only to be cut off.

"Madam Umbridge, since you do not have the time to undergo ten minutes of questioning, a simple oath will suffice. Please take a magical vow indicating that you have no prior knowledge of the attack on Harry Potter, and that you do not know anything about the reason the two Dementors had left Azkaban."

Umbridge was gaping like a fish.

"That should take less than a minute, and then you may be on your way," Howes continued, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

"I…I…" Umbridge swallowed heavily and raised her wand. "I hereby swear that the attack on Harry Potter was a surprise to me." A golden glow surrounded her wand, and her shoulders sagged in relief.

"Not quite the words you were supposed to say," Madam Bones observed dryly. "After all, Potter's _survival_ could have been what surprised you, rather than the presence of Dementors."

She quickly scribbled on a parchment, and handed it over to Howes for approval. He glanced over the words of the oath, and nodded. "Madam Umbridge, please make the following oath, and then you are free to leave," he said, levitating the parchment to her.

Taking the parchment with shaking hands, Umbridge read the words, and then said faintly. "I must decline. I'm … I'm not feeling too well."

"This is no longer a request, Madam Umbridge. I find your reluctance extremely suspicious," Howes said unsympathetically. "Madam Umbridge, you are hereby ordered by the Wizengamot to submit yourself for questioning by Veritaserum."

He nodded at someone in a corner. Swiveling his head, Harry watched as two Aurors who he had not noticed earlier, came forward and stood on either side of Umbridge.

With great difficulty, the Aurors managed to place the protesting woman in the seat and administer two drops of the truth potion.

"What is your name?"

"Dolores Jane Umbridge"

"Are you are the Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic?"

"Yes"

"Do you have any knowledge of the attack on Harry Potter?"

Harry noted that the question was a very general one, and anyone who had even _overheard_ someone talking about a possible attack on him, would have answered in the affirmative.

"Yes."

"Were you involved in any way in the Dementor attack on Harry Potter?"

"Yes"

The whispers in the courtroom grew to such an extent that Howes was forced to cast a silencing charm. Fudge was completely pale and sweating profusely.

"What was your role in the Dementor attack on Harry Potter?"

"I was the mastermind behind it"

The uproar was so loud that it broke through the silencing ward. From the corner of his eye, Harry could see the reporters scribbling furiously.

"Silence!" thundered Chief Warlock Howes. Everyone stopped talking but angry faces could still be seen in the crowd.

"Why did you decide to attack Harry Potter?"

"He was adamant in his belief that Voldemort was back. He was a threat to the stability that Cornelius had provided all these years. He needed to be silenced."

"Did you check to see if his claims on the Dark Lord's return were true?"

"It didn't matter. They were trying to wrest power from Cornelius, and I would not have it."

Howes frowned heavily at Fudge, who looked like he was living his worst nightmare. Which he probably was, mused Harry.

"Who else was involved in your plans to attack Harry Potter?"

"No one else knew the exact details."

"Was Minister Fudge aware of your plans?"

"Cornelius was very upset about Potter's fibs. I offered to take care of the problem for him and he did not ask me how I planned to do so."

Furious members of the Wizengamot were standing up and shouting, shaking their fists at Fudge, who by now was cowering in his seat. Howes gestured towards Bones, who nodded and administered the antidote to Umbridge.

As Umbridge was brought back from her potion-induced haze, she seemed to realize what she had just revealed.

"Madam Umbridge you are hereby charged with conspiracy to commit the murder of Harry James Potter. You will be held for a period of ten days, within which the formal investigation process will be carried out. You will then be brought before this court to be sentenced," declared Chief Warlock Howes.

Umbridge raved and ranted, and finally broke down into harsh sobs, which moved no one.

Fudge was put on the stand next. He was a pale and shaking wreck by then, but knew defeat where he saw it. Unfortunately, his questioning proved that he had no idea about his crony's plans. The only incriminating evidence that was found was that he had tried to ignore the Boy-who-lived's warnings about the Dark Lord's return.

In the light of the lack of evidence, Fudge got off scot-free. Seeing this, he regained some of his old confidence, and tried to block Harry from presenting his memories of Voldemort's rebirth. However Howes overruled him.

"The boy says that he has proof, and I see no reason to deny his request to present it to us."

The viewing was dramatic, to say the least. At least two witches fainted by the end of it. Howes turned towards Fudge, fixing him with a stern glare. "Minister Fudge, I suggest you press all of your resources into dealing with this threat. I find your callous attitude towards the security of our nation appalling."

Fudge did not deign to reply, but by the calculating expression on his face, it was obvious to all that he was considering how to deal with the threat the Wizengamot posed to his position, rather than Voldemort's return.

"Madam Bones, I hope the DMLE is taking the required steps to deal with the situation," Howes asked, with thinly veiled concern.

"Chief Warlock Howes, I am making every effort possible. From the memory, we have been able to identify twenty Death Eaters who were present that night. Investigations are being carried out. I request permission to bring them in for questioning."

"Permission granted."

"Thank you, Chief Warlock. I hope we may discuss this in more detail later," Madam Bones said respectfully.

With that the hearing was closed. Witches and wizards began to get up and mill around with the others. Fudge stormed out of the courtroom, while Madam Bones headed straight for Harry.

Harry smiled at her, and shook her hand. "Thank you, Madam Bones. I appreciate all your efforts."

Madam Bones smiled back. "Come, I would like you to meet some people."

Harry found himself applying all of Sirius' training as Madam Bones introduced him to some of the most influential witches and wizards in the British wizarding world. He chatted pleasantly with all of them, and made sure that each one of them walked away from their five minute conversation, feeling like they had left an impact on the Boy-who-lived.

Harry caught Madam Bones' eye and tilted his head towards the door, indicating that he would be leaving. Madam Bones nodded and excused herself from the conversation to walk him to the door.

A familiar white beard suddenly appeared in Harry's line of sight.

'Dumbledore!' Harry realized, and quickly began applying the Occlumency techniques Sirius had taught him. He hadn't managed to make much progress yet, so he was counting on his Heir ring to protect his secrets.

Harry glanced up, and noticed a look of surprise on the old man's face. He quickly recovered, and was back to his twinkle eyed self. "Amelia, it's been a long time" he said, smiling pleasantly at her.

"It has. What are you doing here, Albus?" Madam Bones asked, her face devoid of any expression.

"I was here to represent Harry during his hearing, but I see that's not necessary anymore," said Dumbledore, his mouth twitching as though he found the whole situation amusing.

"Potter has been cleared of all charges." Madam Bones said. Turning to Harry, she shook his hand again, and said, "I need to get back to work."

Madam Bones left the courtroom, and Harry turned his eyes to Dumbledore. But the man wasn't looking at him.

"Samuel! How are you doing?" he called out, and strode forward, leaving Harry standing there perplexed. Why had Dumbledore ignored him? He hadn't looked in his direction even once! Did he suspect something?

Pushing away his feelings of bewilderment, Harry stepped out of the courtroom, and found Arthur waiting for him. The man was very effusive in his congratulations, and Harry felt a bit guilty about the way he'd treated him earlier.

"Molly will be thrilled, Harry. It wouldn't surprise me if she's got some kind of celebration planned," Arthur said, as they walked towards the exit.

And it was then that the feeling of euphoria sunk in. Harry just couldn't stop grinning all the way home.

* * *

**Authors' notes: **(1) The reason I had my doubts about the time the prophecy was made, was because in the seventh book it is revealed that Snape had overhead at least half of the prophecy. It seems unlikely that he would have wasted any time in relaying this information to Voldemort. One of the memories that the dying Snape gives Harry shows Snape informing Dumbledore that Voldemort believes that the prophecy refers to Lily's child. If the prophecy was made just before Harry's birth, then figuring out that the likely candidates were Potter and Longbottom shouldn't have taken long. Sirius was never the secret-keeper, it was Peter. Then why did Voldemort wait till Harry was over a year old, to attack?

(2) Thank you all for your wonderful reviews. I was happy to find that the number of hits have crossed 100,000.

(3)Harry will soon be returning to Hogwarts, and while I have a few ideas of my own, I look forward to reading any suggestions you might have.

(4) Whew, this was the longest chapter I've written yet (7,250+ words). The next chapter will be coming out hopefully by the end of this week. Just needs a bit of fine-tuning.

Next chapter: Harry gets some company, faces Cedric, and gets a proper medical check-up done.


	14. Opinion

"Without publicity there can be no public support, and without public support every nation must decay."

- Benjamin Disraeli quote (British Prime Minister and Novelist. 1804-1881)

Chapter 14 – Opinion

The weeks leading up to the end of the holidays were the busiest ones in Harry's life. He found himself constantly stretched to his limits, forcing his mind to think and reason in ways he had never imagined doing. For the first time in years, Harry found that studying could actually be interesting.

He had some of the best professors in the world teaching him, and they pushed him to strive harder, accepting nothing less than his best. It was tiring, overwhelming and sometimes frustrating, but Harry enjoyed the feeling of fulfillment that enveloped him as he collapsed on his bed after a long day's work.

Sirius was always there to provide encouragement or to help him to unwind. It was a novel experience for Harry - having a sense of belonging, and knowing that he could lean on his godfather for the much required support. The evenings were often filled with laughter, and some tears, as Sirius shared several other stories about James and Lily that he had not mentioned in his letters. Sometimes they would watch memories of the funnier incidents through the pensieve. The first few times, Harry was too choked up to say anything as he watched his parents standing right before him. He was careful not to obsess over the memories, and of what could have been, knowing that Sirius was worried about that.

The Marauder hour was a great source of fun. Sometimes, Sirius would teach Harry one of the funnier spells the Marauders had created, and describe in great detail how they had executed it in Hogwarts. Through this, Harry learnt a great deal about spell-creation, and found the subject fascinating. Sirius, noticing his interest, had suggested that he consider spell-crafting as a career. After that Harry spent most of his free time browsing through books on the subject and surfing the net to find out about magical universities offering the course.

Another advantage of the Marauder hour was that it pushed Harry into become _very very_ sneaky. Living with the Dursleys had forced him to master the art of stealth from a young age; what with him having to sneak around to get some food, escape Dudley's gang, or pretend to be slow in school. Now all of this inadvertent training was helping him deal with his godfather's crazy mind. The man would suddenly decide to demonstrate his repertoire of spells by having an impromptu duel filled with some of the wackiest spells possible. Harry had quickly learnt that being unpredictable gave Sirius a great advantage in their duels. There was no way he was going to take this humiliation lying down, so he scoured the library whenever possible trying to find prank-worthy spells. Their duels were still horribly embarrassing but at least now both of them were victims. More often than not, their duels ended with both of them dissolving into uncontrollable laughter.

In sharp contrast were the Family Heir and Occlumency training sessions. These lessons were treated with utmost seriousness. It was vital for Harry to learn to shield his mind as soon as possible, as Snape, if not Dumbledore would use every opportunity to probe his thoughts. Harry was progressing quickly in this department, but while he probably would be able to protect his secrets from a casual probe, there was no way he was going to be able to keep a determined Dumbledore out. The only thing he could do in such a situation was keep a low profile.

Dumbledore was probably suspicious after the trial, and had communicated, through Remus, how foolish it was of Harry to share his memories with a Ministry official. The rebuke itself had not annoyed Harry as much as the fact that the man didn't have the decency to tell him so, face-to-face. Any illusions he had about Remus siding with his best friend's son over the revered headmaster, were clearly shattered after that conversation.

_-------Flashback--------_

"What happened?" Sirius asked, as Harry stormed into the training mood in an openly sour mood.

"Professor Lupin," Harry replied curtly, trying to reign in his temper.

"You're still calling him that?" Sirius asked, and at Harry's confused expression he further elaborated, "He's not your professor anymore."

Harry shrugged. "Not like he's asked me to call him anything else."

A dark look fleetingly crossed Sirius' face, before he schooled his features. "What happened?" He repeated.

"Lupin cornered me in a corridor. Was counseling me about how disappointed Dumbledore was about the fact that I spoke to a Ministry official. That it would be to my _benefit_ if I took Dumbledore's advice before I gave out sensitive information." Harry scowled darkly.

Sirius didn't look the least bit surprised. "Hmm," was all he said, before bending down to continue his task of rolling out the mats.

"You look like you expected this," Harry asked, a bit accusingly.

Sirius didn't answer for a moment, and Harry thought that he was going to ignore the probing. But then, Sirus spoke up –

"I expected nothing else from Remus. There's a lot of bitterness there. Sometimes I think he was as much of a coward as Peter was."

Harry gaped. Out of all the things he had expected Sirius to say, this was certainly not it.

"W-why?" Harry asked.

Once again Sirius took his time answering. When he replied, his tone was soft, his eyes distant. "We were all so naïve. So young and foolish to think _we_ were different. _We _wouldn't lose each other in the war. We were stupid enough to believe that we could remain the way we were forever. We believed that the Marauderswere smarter than those foolish wizards who couldn't defend themselves."

Sirius shook his head as he remembered their youthful ignorance. "Less than a year out of Hogwarts, and we knew better. What hope did four barely graduated kids have of surviving a bloody war that hadn't stopped for years? It came as quite a shock and each of us dealt with it differently. James and I, if anything, grew closer. But Peter and Remus – they weren't as close to us as before."

Sirius, fists tightly balled, turned away and continued, "Peter was terrified. He'd always believed that we would protect him from everything, and seeing his heroes so helpless…I think that's when he must have decided to join what he assumed was the winning side. But on the outside there was no indication of any change. We knew he was afraid, but we didn't have an inkling that he had gone over to the Dark side."

Harry was watching him with wide eyes. For a moment, Sirius regretted even beginning this conversation, but he _wanted_ Harry to know. At least some good would come out of all those past mistakes if Harry learnt how to better protect himself.

"Remus became more withdrawn. He was having a tough time coping with all the anti-werewolf prejudice. He was too proud to ask for our help."

Pursing his lips, Sirius continued in a much harsher tone than before, "Then Voldemort fell. Losing James and Lily…," Sirius choked up. Even after all these years, the death of his only true family still ached beyond belief.

Sirius looked straight into Harry's eyes.

"I shouldn't have lost my head like that. I can't tell you how sorry I am that I left you there like that. At that time, I knew no reason; all I wanted was revenge."

Harry shook his head sadly. "Sirius, please. I told you, I don't blame you for any of it. We know that Dumbledore would have still wanted to control me, and who knows how far he would have gone to get you out of his way. Right now you're here, guiding me in this war, while nobody else gives a damn about me as long as I play the hero when they ask me to. I **don't** want to speculate on what might have been."

Sirius felt a lump in his throat. Harry's words wouldn't put to rest the doubts that still plagued his mind, but they still afforded him a sense of comfort.

"Still, I should have known better. But I'm not going to argue the point with you. You were asking me about my anger with Remus. Harry, you have no idea how close the Marauders were. We were always there for each other. When Remus lost his mother, when James' parents were killed in an attack, when I ran away from home,…we've seen each other through all those tough times. So naturally, all that time in Azkaban, I assumed Remus would have been taking care of you like a surrogate uncle, and when I found out that you didn't even know of his existence until two years ago…"

Sirius' tone grew cold. "He turned his back on the Marauders just like Peter did. If things hadn't gone the way they had, you'd have been calling him 'Uncle Moony' and he would have been like a second godfather to you. Instead of being there for you, he's distanced himself to such an extent that you call him 'Professor Lupin', like he's a bloody stranger. I know it's unfair to hold it against him, considering I was the one who abandoned you first. And there was no way the Ministry would have allowed a werewolf to adopt the Boy-who-lived. But I can't help but think that he should have made an attempt to at least visit you once."

Sirius sighed and turned to look at Harry. "I don't expect you to understand, Harry. And I don't want to color your opinion of him, though it's a bit too late for that now. I just want you to question everyone's actions around you. At the end of the day, whether someone is a devout Dumbledore follower or a fanatic Death Eater, everyone lives to serve themselves and their family. If you can understand their motives you'll understand their actions."

Harry frowned. Those words were disturbingly familiar to Voldemort's 'only power is real' speech in his first year. "Not everyone is like that, Sirius. My parents died to protect me. You've sacrificed so much to be by my side. There are some people who strive for a greater cause."

Sirius gave Harry a wry smile. "Sometimes, even ordinary people can rise to greatness through a single act of outstanding bravery. But except for that one moment, they're still ordinary people with flaws and all. Your parents were human. I'm human. _No one can be a hero all the time._ So if anyone gives you an impassioned speech about your role in this war, sprouting words like 'sacrifice' and 'greater good', I want you to turn tail and run as fast as you can in the opposite direction."

_-------End of Flashback--------_

At first Harry had been quite shocked at the extent of Sirius' anger against Lupin. But upon further contemplation it was easy to see why it was difficult for his godfather to trust anyone in the Order, especially someone who was supposed to be one of his best friends.

Harry understood that Lupin's attitude towards Dumbledore stemmed from his gratefulness at being allowed to attend Hogwarts as a child. Harry clearly recognized that his own behaviour mirrored Lupin's; after all, for the longest time he had believed that Hogwarts was a means to escape the Dursleys, and Dumbledore, his saviour. Nevertheless, while he understood why Lupin chose to follow Dumbledore, it was too risky to enlighten the man on Dumbledore's true nature any time soon.

But if his conversation with Sirius had opened his eyes to Professor Lupin's flaws, it had also made him aware of his godfather's own failings. For all his jovial attitude with Harry, Sirius was still too bitter, too angry with his former friends. Harry hoped that Sirius would learn to eventually be at peace and stop torturing himself with 'what-ifs'.

Sometimes he wondered if Sirius was only helping him out as a form of penance for his past mistakes. Then, Harry realized that this was his _own_ insecurity speaking, convincing him that he was worthless, that no one would ever want to help him.

It was unfortunate that their tragic past had made them more alike than they knew. And with that realization, Harry understood that Sirius needed his help as much as Harry needed his.

* * *

"What do have there, Tonks?" Sirius asked the auror, who was currently dumping piles of boxes on his kitchen table.

"Newspapers," Tonks answered, as she pulled out and enlarged yet another magically-shrunk carton stored in her pocket.

Sirius reached into a box for one of the newspapers – International Wizarding Insight – and quickly glanced at the headlines. Two articles placed side-by-side on the front page were the first to catch his eye:

'**British Minister Accused of Terror Attack Cover-Up'**

'**Attempted Murder of the Boy-who-lived: Minister Aide Indicted'**

The Headlines were accompanied with two pictures; one showed a pale and sweaty Fudge seated in his chair, being administered Veritaserum and the other one was a dramatic picture of Umbridge being carted away by the aurors.

"Not her best angle," Sirius commented offhandedly, and laughed at Tonks' incredulous look.

"The Ministry is seizing every copy they can get their hands on." Kingsley remarked, as he stood up from his seat and headed towards the table. Gesturing towards the boxes, he continued, "And I'm guessing, Tonks here managed to grab a couple of them."

"A couple?" Tonks snorted. "There are nearly two hundred copies in there. International Wizarding Insight, Magical News Network, BeWitch Today … every newspaper worth their salt has given prominent coverage to the trial."

"Two hundred is a pretty good number," Kingsley acknowledged. "But there are hundreds of copies out there that have escaped the Ministry's clutches."

"But how is this happening? I've never seen so many international newspapers floating around!" Tonks looked frustrated.

"That's because there never was any interest in these publications before. But now, the guys who have the rights to sell them here must have realized what a scoop this is. They can make a killing selling these." Sirius explained and then went back to reading the articles.

"Not anymore. The Minister has banned all foreign publications." Tonks shook her head, and sat down dejected.

"A knee-jerk reaction that's certainly not going to help his cause. Banning something only fans the interest further." Kingsley said.

"So what did you bring these here for?" Sirius asked, after he had discretely swiped a few copies to show Harry.

"I was planning on asking Dumbledore if we could use them for our Order recruitment drive." Tonks looked eager to prove her worth to Dumbledore.

Sirius hid a frown. He had expected that Tonks would be fairly easy to rescue from Dumbledore's net, but the woman was exhibiting early warning signs of hardcore Dumbledore fanaticism.

Sirius turned his attention back to the papers and mulled over several ideas in his head, trying to find the best way to maximize the positive publicity these papers would bring Harry. With the large number of these papers suddenly in circulation, quite a few people would have no doubt read the articles and realized that the Prophet had a shady agenda in maligning Harry's name.

The floo chimed indicating that the other Order members were starting to arrive for the meeting. People began milling around the kitchen, talking to other members as they took their seats. Kingsley moved to stand near the fireplace in order to keep a watchful eye on the arrivals.

Sirius spotted some of the younger lot drifting towards them, trying to get near Auror Tonks, and perhaps overhear some grand tale of adventure. Sirius himself was an impressive character to the younger crowd. The older crowd had at one time believed him to be Voldemort's right hand man, and thus found it hard to shake off their mistrust. But as the innocent man who managed to stay sane in Azkaban for thirteen years and as the only known prisoner to escape its horrifying confines, many of the new recruits were in complete awe of him. Sirius was suddenly hit by a brainwave.

"You know what we really need from our new recruits is ambition and initiative. We need them to be resourceful; have ideas of their own instead of always looking to Dumbledore for guidance." Sirius casually stated, as he folded one of the papers and placed back in the box.

Tonks looked thoughtful. "You think I shouldn't ask him then?"

Sirius shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "I don't know. Dumbledore's got his eye on several things. He's got to see the bigger picture for all of us, you know? I'm amazed at how he has the patience to listens to all the silly comments and questions people ask him. They really ought to have a bit of sense and not trouble him with such trivial things."

Tonks hummed in understanding.

Sirius stood up. "Come on, Tonks. We need to do an Imperius-check on the new arrivals."

Tonks nodded, and hurried forward.

Sirius glanced back at the four young men and one woman who had overheard their conversation. "Mind moving those boxes out of the way?"

One of them - a short, bulky looking man with sandy hair – peered into the boxes. "What do they contain?"

"Newspapers. All proving Fudge's incompetence. Which is why the Minister's banned them." Sirius ran a hand through his hair and sighed in a tired manner. "If the public could read them they'd understand the truth. About You-know-who and Dumbledore being right and all that."

The five exchanged surprised looks. The girl pulled out one of the papers, and the boys all crowded around her trying to read over her shoulder.

"But – this proves everything! It's everything we've been trying to achieve." The girl looked up with an ardent expression on her face. She glanced around at the boys who were all nodding their heads, still not taking their eyes off the newspaper.

"Like I said," Sirius continued, "the papers would give us the credibility we need. Just going around talking people into believing us, isn't going to work."

"So, there's nothing we can do?" A lanky looking boy at the back exclaimed, with a despondent look.

"Not unless you can figure out a way to get them pasted all across Diagon Alley or something," Sirius said, laughing as though he found the idea absurd.

A gleam entered the brunette's eyes and she glanced back at the papers, her mind obviously working furiously.

Sirius internally crowed with triumph. "Anyway, we've got a lot to discuss today, and I doubt that Dumbledore will want to be bothered with this. If you can just move the boxes to a corner or something, we'll figure out what to do with them later," Sirius said dismissively and moved to join Tonks. From the corner of his eye, he could see the youngsters whispering excitedly among themselves as they levitated the boxes to a corner.

Sirius couldn't wait to see the after-effects of his little prank.

* * *

"Hey, Martin Miggs comics!"

Harry looked up to see Ron standing in front of them, eyes fixed on the pile of comics he had placed next to him on the couch.

"I _love_ these," Ron exclaimed, plonking himself on the carpet and reaching for the pile.

Harry absently nodded and continued flipping through the comic as he waited to be called for dinner. The Order meeting had taken longer than expected and Mrs. Weasley had banned everyone (especially her children) from 'helping' her in the kitchen, when she had spotted a hungry Fred attempt to steal a bite of half-cooked potatoes.

Feeling the couch dip under someone's weight, Harry turned to see Hermione picking up a comic. For a moment, both Ron and Harry ogled at her. _Hermione_ reading comics?

Sensing their gaze, she looked up and raised an eyebrow challengingly.

Harry grinned and went back to the comic book. Sirius had found a pile of these old comics in his room and had handed them over to Harry as part of his wizarding-culture-immersion program.

'The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle' was apparently a very popular comic book series in the Magical World, and Harry had seen dozens of kids at Hogwarts reading them in the common room. But while there were some hilarious gags in there, there were plenty of subtle jokes that Harry didn't get - the kind of jokes that only someone raised in a magical family would understand. While Sirius would no doubt explain them to him later, Harry was also determined to ask him if wizards really bought some of the misconceptions about Muggles that the books propagated.

"This is ridiculous!" Hermione all but shrieked. "They're making us all out to be barbarians."

Harry was pretty sure he knew exactly what had set Hermione off. He peered into the comic and sure enough she was reading the issue in which the character Martin attempts to explain dentistry to magical folk. Only, the writers had put in a completely absurd explanation about the medical science. Braces were apparently used to prevent teeth from falling off, dentures were supposedly second-hand teeth - it was no wonder Hermione (whose parents were dentists) was presently seething.

Harry began to shift away from Hermione, as discretely as possible, to avoid being at the epicenter of the impending explosion.

"What's the problem," Ron asked, not looking up from his book.

Hermione took that as an invitation and began to rave and rant, waving her hands about wildly as she emphasized certain points in her argument.

"It's exactly this kind of material that spreads all those ridiculous notions about pureblood supremacy and inferiority of Muggle-borns. We can't allow such a propaganda to continue unabated. There need to be counter measures of some sort to keep such kind of negative publicity from implanting the seeds of bigotry in wizards' minds."

Hermione was clearly on her soap-box.

Harry was amused to notice Ron supplying an occasional "that's right" and "absolutely" without once looking up to see what Hermione was talking about. Harry himself agreed with what Hermione was saying, but couldn't help but worry that she would go about attempting to solve this problem the wrong way.

Hermione finished her little speech, and noticed that Ron hadn't focused on a single word she was saying. For a moment it looked like she was going to explode, but then she just sighed and shook her head.

Spotting Harry's surprised look, she smiled a bit bitterly and muttered, "Life is easier when I just use him as my sounding board. No point expecting anything more."

Harry nodded sagely. The only two apparent driving forces in Ronald Weasley's life were food and Quidditch. Anything else wasn't worth paying attention to. Harry briefly wondered if Hermione had grown out of her little crush on their ginger-haired friend. During the Triwizard tournament it had been fairly obvious that there was _something _going on between the two of them. Even _he _had been able to figure out that much, even though Hermione generally accused him of being clueless.

"Something needs to be done, Harry," Hermione said, looking at him beseechingly.

"And you're going to be the one to do it?" Harry asked, making sure that his tone would not be misconstrued as mocking.

Still, Hermione flushed and looked away. "No one else seems to care."

Harry rubbed his eyes wearily. Last summer, he would have gone along with whatever crusade Hermione planned, merely to keep the peace. But now, with everything that had happened, there was no way he was going to find the time to support Hermione's school-yard revolution.

Yet, Hermione _was_ right. Something had to be done about this. Poking fun at Muggles was a popular wizarding past time, and it left Muggle-borns feeling awkward and out of place. But buttons and slogans weren't going to change the situation overnight.

Hermione seemed to take his prolonged silence as disinterest.

"You of all people should understand what I'm talking about, Harry," she snapped, frowning at him heavily.

Harry felt his temper rise. "Why? Because of my amazing experience with _my_ Muggle relatives?"

Hermione looked stunned. "N-no, Harry. I meant that your mum was a Muggle-born. She would have had to put up with the same kind of prejudice and if…," Hermione paused and licked her lips nervously, "…if she had survived and your father hadn't, then she wouldn't be able to touch a sickle of your father's money. It's not just these comic books. There are laws that prevent Muggle-borns from accessing the money of their pureblood spouses. A pureblood marrying a muggle-born is still frowned upon by a large section of society. And no one will ever say it outright, but everyone knows that a Muggle-born working for the Ministry will never be able to rise above the Department Assistant level."

Harry felt the familiar head-spinning sensation that always occurred when Hermione overloaded him with information.

His mother would have been left a penniless widow if she had survived? Was Hermione right?

"It's why I'm so worried about my OWLs," Hermione continued, as she stared at her clasped hands. "I've grown up hearing my parents tell me that if I work hard enough I can achieve anything. When I heard about the magical world, I was so excited about the possibilities. The way McGonagall painted this world! I thought it would be some kind of fantasy."

She smiled a bit bitterly at the memory. "I had a full scholarship at one of the best schools in the country and I gave it up. I thought that neglecting my Muggle studies wouldn't matter. I _was _worried that I didn't know anything about this world, but I figured that if I worked hard enough, it wouldn't be a problem."

Hermione looked at Harry with jaded eyes. "And then I find that I'll never be good enough, because of something I can't control. So I'm stuck now. I'll never rise in the magical world, but I have no qualifications to make it in the Muggle world either."

The heartfelt confession was interrupted by a sudden burst of laughter. Ron was clutching his stomach, laughing hysterically.

"Oh hell! Martin always cracks me up." Looking up he spotted his two exasperated friends watching him.

"What?" He asked, wondering whether he had missed something important.

Ginny chose that moment to poke her head into the room. "Hey guys, Mum says dinner is ready."

A moment later, Harry and Hermione were the only ones in the room.

"If Ron always moves that fast," Hermione wryly observed, "he won't ever need to learn to apparate."

* * *

Harry had decided that Sirius was a genius. Mrs. Weasley would perhaps beg to differ and choose to term his condition 'insanity'. But Harry knew better.

Everything his godfather did for a reason, and it usually turned out to be a good one. Currently the man in question was slouching in a chair in the dark gloomy sitting room. His unshaven face appeared drawn and haggard. From time to time, he would swig a huge bottle of Firewhiskey to his lips and take a long sip, which he would follow with a loud sigh.

"Harry," he rasped, after a while. "Come here."

Hermione and Ginny paused in the middle of their game of Gobstones and looked at Harry worriedly. Mrs. Weasley didn't stop her knitting, but Harry could see her furrow her forehead.

"Yeah, Sirius?" Harry asked, stopping in front of his chair.

Sirius didn't answer for a moment. Then a small smile appeared on his face.

"Sit," he said, waving his hand at the carpet laid out at his feet.

Slightly annoyed that Sirius was treating him like a dog, Harry compiled and looked up at Sirius questioningly.

Sirius grinned again. Harry could see the mischievous sparkle in his eyes but to everyone else he must have looked plain scary.

Sirius always behaved like this at night. The occupants of the house tended to steer clear him of him after dusk, for he was always invariably in a black mood. For hours, he would sit quietly just staring at the fire, not responding to anyone. After a while, they had simply learned to let him be.

But once in a while, he would call Harry to sit near him. He would tell Harry about his father and what a good friend he was. He would tell him about the pranks they played, describing both the planning and the reactions in great detail. He'd talk about how it felt to live without any worry or fear, simply enjoying Hogwarts without the suffocating oppressiveness that war brought with it.

Harry listened intently to it all. And though the other occupants never interrupted, Harry knew that they too were listening to every word.

To everyone else, these were simply the ramblings of a man broken by war. One who longed so deeply for the return of the 'glory days' that he simply could not accept the harsh reality of the present. But Harry knew better.

This was a carefully constructed façade. It was what everyone expected, so it was what Sirius let everyone see. It also set the stage for Harry's actions upon his return to Hogwarts.

Sirius had impressed upon him, the fact that 'appearances could be deceiving' and they were to use that fact to their benefit. If Harry were to suddenly disappear for long stretches of time, or start befriending people of other houses, or generally behave out of character, it would instantly arouse suspicion. What would warrant such a change in attitude so soon after the graveyard incident?

Therefore, Sirius had decided to provide an obvious reason to explain the sudden change. Sirius was the only one who bothered to tell Harry about his family, and the only thing he talked about in front of the others was pranks, pranks and pranks, with the occasional 'enjoy life while you can' advice thrown in. When Harry would start becoming more outgoing at Hogwarts, it wouldn't be unreasonable to assume that Harry had begun to take his godfather's advice seriously.

The Order was a bit concerned with Sirius' instability, but so far no one had attempted to put a stop to the storytelling sessions. So Sirius would talk till his voice grew hoarse or Prof. Lupin managed to pull the bottle of Firewhiskey away from him, whichever came first. Then Sirius would shuffle off to bed, shoulders hunched, body still thin and weak - an absolutely pathetic figure to look at.

"I don't see you using glamours on your body. How are you still looking so emaciated?" Harry had asked once, after a swimming lesson.

"Potions," Sirius had replied, grinning smugly. "I've soaked all my clothes in them, and they make my body appear hopelessly weak."

"Huh, good idea. Should I do the same?" Harry asked, looking down at his body and imagining a six-pack. "Your old clothes are a better fit than Dudley's."

Sirius coughed and looked away, looking suspiciously like he was trying to hide a laugh. "No need for that yet, I think. We can consider it once you buy yourself some new clothes at Hogsmeade."

* * *

"Harry! Come quick!" Harry heard a knock followed by an urgent whisper on the other side of the door.

Moments earlier, he had been in one of the upper training rooms, when the wards had alerted him that Ron and Hermione were heading to his decoy room. He had raced downstairs just in time to hear the knock.

Trying to appear as unruffled as possible, Harry opened the door to find his two friends and Ginny furtively beckoning him towards the edge of the staircase.

"What's happening?" he asked, as the sounds of an argument brewing downstairs could be heard.

"There's a major row going on. We're trying to find out what it's about." Ron said, as Hermione tried to lean over the banister in attempt to catch more of the argument.

"Never fear for the twins are here!" Fred and George chorused, shocking them with their sudden appearance.

"Where did you come from?" Ron asked.

Fred and George ignored his question and pulled out what looked like six detached ears attached to flesh colored strings.

"Extendable ears," they explained, and demonstrated the technique for using them.

"Brilliant!" Harry said, suppressing a shiver at the thought of Rita Skeeter and the twins ever joining forces.

"It was stupid and careless and I don't know what you lot were thinking!" Molly's voice could be clearly heard shrieking, as though she were standing right next to them.

"How was it stupid? Everyone got to see the truth. Fudge can't hush it up if the public knows exactly what he's up to." Harry couldn't identify the young woman who was the owner of the voice.

"Someone might have seen you. They'll pull you in for questioning and then everyone will know the existence of the Order."

"Give us a little more credit. Nobody could have seen us through the invisibility cloaks. Well, except Mad-Eye. Besides, do you really think so little of us? We're Order members too, we know the importance of keeping the organisation a secret." An unidentified man's voice was heard.

"You should have cleared it with Dumbledore. Tonks had managed to get those newspapers after a great deal of effort. You can't just swipe Order property whenever you feel like." Arthur said, although he didn't sound too disappointed or angry at the turn of events.

"Arthur, _make them understand_. They're a bunch of kids. They shouldn't take matters into their own hands."

"Enough!" McGonagall said, surprising Harry with her forcefulness. "What is done is done. But I _will _be informing Albus of this."

At the sound of the impromptu meeting breaking up, Fred and George hastily pulled their extendable ears back up, and the others did the same.

"Well, now we know what that was all about." George said.

"We do?" Ron asked.

"Come on, George. Let's leave the ignorant alone." The twins disapparated, leaving a spluttering Ron and Hermione.

"Those gits! How do they know what's going on?" Ron whined.

"They're not the only ones." Ginny smirked.

"You know something," Hermione deduced.

"Tell us," Ron commanded.

Ginny narrowed her eyes.

"What's in it for me?"

Ron looked flabbergasted for a moment. Then a sly look entered his eyes. "I do know what will happen if you _don't_ tell me," he said, with a pointed look in Harry's direction.

Ginny flushed bright red but recovered her composure fairly soon.

"Fine," she snapped. "Diagon Alley is covered with newspaper articles about Harry's trial. Only it's not the Daily Prophet rubbish. I think they're papers that are printed in other countries. In any case, they've covered the trial pretty accurately. Everything from the reprimand Fudge received to Umbridge confessing. No one knows who did it, but from that argument, I'm guessing that some of the Order newbies decided to take matters into their own hands."

Hermione looked gobsmacked. "What do mean Diagon Alley is covered with newspapers?"

"Exactly that," Ginny replied, flipping her long hair over her shoulder and shooting a quick glance in Harry's direction. "There's at least one newspaper on every available wall surface."

Harry faked a look of shock. Ron looked disbelieving. "And what, the Ministry's just letting them stay there?"

"Apparently they've been charmed really well. Some Aurors have been spotted trying to pull them down, but they've had no luck. There's a rumor going around about some kind of super-special glue."

"How do you know this?" Harry asked.

Ginny bestowed a smile in his direction. "A friend of mine wrote to me a few days ago after his shopping visit to the alley."

Ron guffawed loudly. "Friend? Don't you mean boyfriend? Jeremy sure does write long detailed letters to you."

Then he saw the dangerous expression on his sister's face. "Reading my mail, were you?" she asked icily.

Ron gulped.

"I'm in a generous mood today, so you get a five second head start."

The words were barely out of her mouth, before Ron had fled downstairs. Ginny counted to five, determinedly not looking at Harry, before she took off after him.

"No running on the stairs!" Molly shouted.

Harry and Hermione exchanged looks. Hermione sighed. "I'd better make sure she doesn't kill him."

* * *

The party was on full swing and everyone was making merry. Tonks was in high spirits (literally, as she was drunk), and kept trying to drag Professor Lupin for a dance. Ron and Hermione were beaming with pride, accepting congratulations from various Order members. Mrs. Weasley too was in a particularly good mood as she soaked in the exuberant atmosphere.

Harry barely resisted the urge to scowl.

The prefects badge. A sign of rank. A sign of recognition. A sign of manipulation.

'Jeez,' thought Harry, wondering where that cheesy line had come from. 'What have Fred and George spiked my drink with?'

Sighing, Harry allowed his thoughts to drift. It was only after their letters from Hogwarts arrived, declaring Ron and Hermione as the new Gryffindor prefects, that he had finally accepted that his decision to keep his plans a secret was a correct one. Harry could understand why Hermione was selected, but Ron? Dean or even Neville would have been a better choice. It was a clear ploy on Dumbledore's part to subtly buy their favor.

The guilt still remained but at the end of the day, he understood the need to forge his own path. He couldn't afford to be dependent on them, or they on him. Both Ron and Hermione needed to grow up – Ron needed to understand the importance of hard work, and that in life, things weren't going to be handed to him, and Hermione needed to step out of her ideal world and start analyzing everyone, including figures of authority, objectively. She was already making a start, Harry knew, but he was still wary of her. Hermione had a tendency to believe she was always right, and she would go ahead and do things without consulting him. She never claimed superiority out loud, but her actions certainly betrayed her thoughts.

'Besides', Harry thought, 'I need to step out of her shadow, just as Ron needs to step out of mine.'

Careful not to reveal any of his thoughts on the matter, he heartily congratulated Ron and Hermione during the party. A part of him acknowledged that there had been a bit of jealousy involved in his feelings, but in the grander scheme of things, he realized, a Prefect's badge just didn't count.

* * *

A beam of purple light whizzed past the spot Harry had been occupying just moments earlier.

'Shit!' Harry thought, and scrambled back into the alley. Quickly firing two spells back in the same direction, Harry fled in the opposite direction. Harry glanced behind to see the effects of his spells. Sure enough, a dark forbidding fog was now obscuring the view. Anyone trying to break through that would hopefully not notice the second spell he had cast (the quicksand jinx) – before it was too late.

Seconds ticked by and there was no answering volley of spells.

Harry slowly crept along the wall of the building. Stopping at the edge, he anxiously peered around the corner. The street was deserted.

He was getting closer to the edge of the anti-apparation ward. He could sense that its perimeter was less than ten feet away. But to get there he needed to cut across the street.

Could he risk it?

Perhaps a distraction would do the trick. Raising his wand towards the sky, he cast a spell – a kind of spell that didn't produce a colored beam – and watched as a bunch of multi-colored balloons suddenly appeared. They floated around harmlessly for a moment and then - *pop* *pop* - one by one they began to burst. If he was lucky, this would cause his pursuer to shift his gaze upwards and allow Harry to make a break for it, undetected.

A quick check to make sure that his disillusionment charm had not yet dispelled, and then Harry was running full speed towards the edge of the ward.

Five feet more. Almost there – what the hell? A snitch!

Before Harry could realize what he was doing, his body reacted. His hand reached out and grabbed the snitch.

The next second he felt the unpleasant sensation of a portkey whirling him away. Panicking, he forgot all about the portkey landing techniques that had been drilled into his head.

He collapsed on the ground and heard a voice murmur, "Expelliarmus! Incarcerous!"

His wand snatched from his grasp, bound by ropes, Harry felt all the horrible memories of the Triwizard Tournament overwhelm him.

Vaguely aware that it was his own voice crying out helplessly "No! No!", he struggled futilely against the bindings.

Through the haze of all the terror he could hear a voice calling out, "Harry! Snap out of it!"

The ropes fell away, and Harry realized that he was kneeling on the floor, being hugged so tightly by his godfather that he almost couldn't breathe.

"I'm so sorry, Harry. I should have realized," Sirius was blabbering and Harry suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment engulf him.

"It's okay," he said, feebly trying to push Sirius away. "I was just being stupid."

Sirius leaned back, still looking worried. That only served to make Harry angrier, but he kept quiet.

He stood up and brushed some imaginary dust off his jeans, resolutely not meeting Sirius' eyes.

"Maybe, we should work on the scenario-training later," Sirius ventured.

"No!" Harry snapped. "I'm fine."

"All right, all right!" Sirius gave him a grin, but Harry could see that it was rather strained. "Let's work on where you went wrong. Care to tell me?"

Harry felt his face heat up. "The snitch," he whispered. "I grabbed it without thinking. And then I messed up the landing. I should have been alert the moment I realized what was happening."

Sirius looked at him, all traces of amusement – fake or not – had vanished. "Harry, better that this happened now, than in a _real_ situation."

Sirius walked up to the switch panel and flicked off the holographic projector. The scene around them vanished.

"The portkey tactic was used quite often in the First War. Death Eaters would drop a few dozen of these all over the site of attack. Any victim who accidently brushed against them would instantly be transported to a Death Eater camp. They were then screened and those who were of some use were held for ransom or forced to use their knowledge to help Voldemort. The rest were killed and their bodies dumped in some public place in order to incite more panic."

"Professor Valentino told me about that. Only the Ministry is allowed to make portkeys but they have no way of detecting or preventing others from doing the same. He told me that the Ministry sometimes prosecuted the victims who escaped, if they were a Muggleborn or werewolf, on charges of using an illegal portkey. It sounds awful." Sirius' stories and his Magical Culture and History lessons had given Harry a better idea of what was to come. While isolated at Grimmauld Place it was sometimes easy to forget that there was a war brewing outside.

Sirius shrugged. "It was. Anyway, I know you'll be prepared the next time. Otherwise, I think you did a pretty good job. Nice touch with the balloons. You had me distracted for a second."

Harry nodded, but didn't feel any less dejected.

Sirius slung his arm around his shoulder. "Hey, cheer up. You lasted longer than you ever have before. It's a new record!"

"Whoopee," Harry said monotonously.

The corner of Sirius' mouth twitched for a moment, before he burst out laughing, thoroughly surprising Harry.

"You've got Lily's acid tongue," he said, still laughing.

Harry allowed a small smile to creep on his face. It was the first time anyone had compared him to his mother.

* * *

Amelia Bones was suffering from a severe headache. She had been involved in politics for over forty years, and even she hadn't managed to anticipate how difficult Fudge's impeachment would be. For all his stupidity and corruption, Fudge was an adept politician. It was what was making him so difficult to remove.

The revelation that Voldemort was indeed back, had spread rapidly among the higher social circles, but it had produced two different reactions. Some people were thoroughly appalled at Fudge's total disregard for security, and were crying themselves hoarse for his removal. However, there was a lack of consensus on what needed to be done after his removal, to counter the threat of Voldemort, and as a result this group was split into several different factions, each pushing for a new Minister from among their allies.

The other group of people had been Voldemort supporters in the First War, and had used a few hefty bribes to buy their way out of Azkaban. They had lined Fudge's pocket with significant sums of gold and had no desire to see their investment go down the drain. These were the people that had managed to so far block all of the Wizengamot's moves to investigate Fudge and had effectively made it difficult for Amelia to carry out raids on any of the high-rank Death Eaters.

Several leading reporters had shown up for Potter's farce of a trial, and scathing articles about the state of Magical Britain's government had appeared in numerous well-known newspapers across the world.

To the influential class, the snide comments from their counterparts in other countries were quite a shock. If there was one thing that was precious to the snobbish elite, it was their reputation. To find that in tatters because of a bungling Minister was more than some could bear. Still, those who followed Voldemort (whether their allegiance was a secret or not) knew that the Dark Lord's current agenda was to lie low for the present. Not that they understood his reasons for doing so, but who were they to question the Dark Lord? So disregarding their reservations, they continued to blindly support Fudge and use every bit of influence they had to protect the man. Fudge, the bumbling fool had no idea why he was enjoying a sudden swell of support, but he knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.

This entire political game would have normally continued in secret among the various factions of Britain's wizarding elite, as the middle class population of magical Britain had traditionally been isolated from the rest of the world.

Someone, however, had had a better idea. Within days of their publishing, all of the articles blowing the cover on Fudge's incompetence were circulating in large numbers among the general population.

Fudge had been furious about this, and had ordered a banning of all international newspapers and publications. He might as well have painted a "Guilty" sign on his forehead.

Within hours of his proclamation a roaring black market trade had sprung up, and all available Ministry officials by order of the Minister of Magic, were empowered with the right to conduct random raids to confiscate "illegal propaganda material".

Her Aurors, who had so far been conducting raids on several of the lower rung Death Eaters, suddenly found themselves pulled from duty, and forced to cart away reams and reams of newsprint.

Naturally this only further fanned curiosity about the whole business. The next thing everyone knew, Diagon Alley was covered with the very same newspapers that had been banned a few days ago.

Several Ministry officials had tried (or pretended to try) every spell they could think of to remove the offending papers, to no avail. The papers were firmly stuck with some kind of super strong glue, and attempting to cover them up with other papers didn't work as they had been charmed to turn the covering paper transparent.

An overzealous Ministry official by the name of Percy Weasley had finally suggested the passing of a law requiring all Diagon Alley shopkeepers to repaint their property. Fudge was impressed that the boy the problem had been solved without spending a sickle of Ministry funds, and had handed the boy a promotion. Percy Weasley was now Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic.

The boy was over the moon after his new promotion, but Amelia knew the fool had no idea what lay in store from him. He had been promoted over several other candidates, and they would no doubt make life hell for him from now onwards. This, coupled with the fact that the Minister would not be able to retain his position for long, was bound to spell disaster for young Percy Weasley's career.

Amelia realized that she was getting sidetracked. Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she pulled open a report from one of the Aurors who reported directly to her. After Potter's visit last week, it had become clear that the Ministry was ridden with corrupt bureaucrats and Amelia had no desire to fight both Voldemort and her own Auror corps. She had set about using Veritaserum on each of her subordinates. So far she had managed to cull out three marked supporters and eleven Voldemort sympathizers. The marked supporters were sacked and arrested, while the sympathizers were placed under close observation.

The easiest way of ensuring the loyalty of the Auror corps was getting them to take a loyalty oath but Amelia didn't know who to make them swear to. It was unethical to make the Aurors swear to herself, and she worried that making them swear to the Ministry would force them to obey the corrupt Minister's orders. So the only viable solution she had been able to come up with was getting every Auror to swear an oath _not_ to follow the Dark Lord Voldemort. Then she recalled the memories Potter had shown her, and decided to add 'Tom Riddle' to that oath.

However, Amelia knew that getting the Aurors to swear to the oath would be far more difficult. The last time something like this had been attempted was in the Grindelwald war, when Anthony Finnegan had tried the same tactic. Several of his Aurors had taken offence to their loyalty being questioned and had protested. Loudly. Nearly a half the Auror force had gone on strike.

Amelia couldn't afford a repeat of the same situation. Fudge would tear her to pieces if the Aurors went on strike.

Amelia pondered the quandary for a few more moments before inspiration struck. She had just the right solution for her problem.

* * *

'Where is he?' Harry wondered impatiently as he wandered around the house trying to find his missing godfather.

Said godfather had not turned up for his Occlumency lesson. It was quite unlike Sirius to just leave Harry stranded like that without any note or warning, so Harry was presently trying to ignore the panic that was clawing at him.

Harry was about to give up and return to his room when he realized that he could check the wards to locate the Master of the House. After a bit of trial and error, Harry suddenly _knew _that Sirius was in a room on the first floor landing.

Harry raced down to the first floor and paused when he heard a choked sob emanating from the drawing room.

Peering in, he saw something that made his heart stop. Sirius was crouching in front of a very much alive James and Lily, with an extremely pained expression on his face.

For a second, Harry couldn't breathe. What the hell was happening?

Then, as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on him, Harry felt a rush of icy realization.

A Boggart!

Mrs. Weasley had mentioned sensing one in this very room, during the party.

Harry had left his generic wand in his room, for fear that Moody would be able to spot it with his magical eye. Not having any magical means to stop the Boggart, Harry did the only thing he could – he ran in front of Sirius in a bid to confuse the creature. This plan however, did not work as well as he had hoped.

The Boggart paused for a second, confused, and then flickered between the forms of a James and Lily, and a Dementor. Neither were very appealing to Harry at the moment, especially since his parents kept crying out in unison, "It's your fault. We're dead, and you're the one to blame."

And suddenly, Cedric was standing there, with a look of utter contempt on his face. Harry bit back a cry, and staggered against Sirius.

This seemed to rouse his godfather, for suddenly there was a shout, "Riddikulus."

A trembling Harry fell to the floor, trying to calm his racing heart. By the time he was able to gather his wits, his godfather had banished the Boggart.

The incident left both of them shaken, and for days Harry couldn't sleep without nightmares. Sirius was no better – Harry could see the dark rings under his eyes during their Occlumency lessons.

It was just around the time that Harry had finally started getting a full nights rest that Sirius reminded Harry about his planned medical check-up. No amount of whining would dissuade him, so Harry figured he would just have to grit his teeth and bear it.

To his surprise, the check-up was nothing like Madam Pomphrey's. Sirius started by murmuring a spell, while moving his wand from the top of Harry's head to his feet. Harry was shocked to see a 3D replica of his body, pouring out of Sirius' wand. Sirius then tapped the specter on its head and it dissolved into a single sheet of paper. Smiling at the shocked expression on his face, Sirius picked up the paper and dropped it in the box next to the computer. Harry gathered that the box (called 'transponder') allowed users to e-mail physical objects, but Sirius explained that only objects below a particular density could be mailed by this method, and only to people who had a similar transponder at their end.

The next day, Harry and Sirius were conferencing via the Magi-web with a healer from – well, Harry had no idea where exactly where he was from, except that he was somehow connected to Sirius' "contacts".

The healer's proficient attitude impressed Harry. He started off the call by taking an oath not to reveal any of Harry's medical details unless it was required for professional reasons.

"Do you have the diagnosis I sent?" The healer then asked. He looked exactly like one of the doctors in that Muggle serial that Aunt Petunia absolutely adored.

Harry nodded glancing at the computer screen which currently displayed a complete analysis of his physical body and magical core.

"There are signs of malnutrition and poorly healed injuries. Mr. Potter, whoever your guardians are, they've done a terrible job of taking care of you." The healer stated bluntly.

Sirius flinched. The healer shifted his suspicious gaze towards him.

Harry decided to take control of the conversation. "Healer…" he trailed off glancing at his medical record for the healer's name.

"Healer Wright," he began again. "Due to certain circumstances, I was living with my Muggle relatives. Yes, they were unfit guardians, but thankfully I'm now living with my godfather."

Healer Wright eyed him carefully for a few moments trying to detect any untruth in that statement. Satisfied he moved on to listing the medicines Harry would have to take.

"By Godric! How many more are you going to rattle out?" Sirius exclaimed when the man named yet another healing potion.

Healer Wright frowned. "You _do_ want your godson healed, yes?"

Sirius looked contrite and nodded.

"Mr. Potter, you are required to take an unusually large number of potions. Therefore, I've had a Potion Master condense them into a few potions. I'm now sending those across now. The doses are listed in the record I sent you. For your record I've also listed the individual potions that I've prescribed, incase you feel the need to take a second opinion."

Harry opened the transponder and found a pouch with neatly labeled bottles.

"Do you see the one labeled 'Optocure'?" Healer Wright asked. "That's an eyesight correcting potion. A fairly recent invention, which to the best of my knowledge is available even in England. Perhaps it was the exorbitant price that stopped your school healer from mentioning the cure to you."

Harry and Sirius frowned but did not comment.

"Now there is something very important that I wish to discuss," Wright stopped to see if he had their attention and then continued, "The magical scan showed some kind of serious anomaly around your scar. I am unable to satisfactorily explain what exactly it is. I would need to be physically present to conduct some tests before I can determine the exact problem."

Harry spoke up. "My scar does react strangely at times. When I'm near Voldemort (the dark wizard who has tried to kill me several times) it flares up and hurts something fierce. Sometimes I can see or feel things that are in no way connected to my present state. I've been told that Voldemort transferred some of his powers to me on the night of his failed attack. Do you think that this is what is causing this – this anomaly?"

Healer Wright rested his hands on the table in front of him and seemed to ponder on that statement. "If what you are saying is true then this delves into magic I have little knowledge of. I would need to consult other specialists to investigate this. But as I said earlier, I would need to meet you face-to-face to do some tests."

Harry and Sirius exchanged a look, wondering how they were going to manage a meeting outside Grimmauld Place. Short bike rides were one thing, but a meeting with a healer would undoubtedly last at least an hour.

Then simultaneously a Marauder grin sprang on their faces.

"I think we'll manage that, Healer Wright. We'll be in touch to decide a convenient time and location," Harry said. Thanking the healer, he terminated the connection.

"C'mon" Sirius beckoned. "We've got a prank to plan."

* * *

**Authors' note: **

I had planned on having this chapter one week after I posted the previous one. But I wasn't happy with the way it had shaped up and ended up rewriting it. This chapter is the longest yet (~10,000 words) and I hope that it makes up for the long wait.

Harry starts to understand that Sirius isn't perfect, that he's still suffering from his stint in Azkaban. I'm guessing that the opening scene where Sirius clearly states his views on Remus is going to be controversial, but bear in mind that this is Sirius' pov. Remus is the way he is because of the circumstances that have affected his life.

Meanwhile, Harry's newly awakened eagerness to learn, coupled with his new found independence is a great attitude that he's adopted and it's going to help him in the war.

Politically, things are heating up as you can see from the Amelia Bones point of view.

As always, suggestions for future chapters are welcome. Thank you for your reviews.


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